


Those Demons in Your Head

by Draycarla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death In Dream, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Keith Has Nightmares (Voltron), M/M, Nightmares, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Sheithlentines 2021, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) in the Astral Plane, Shiro Has Nightmares (Voltron), Therapy, violent nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: Keith is no stranger to nightmares. He's had them for as long as he can remember. His trusty Hippo always the safety net he's needed.After that year in space, Shiro's plagued with nightmares to the point he barely sleeps. Keith's the one to offer an olive branch.Together, maybe they can help each other process.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Kudos: 35
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redgalahad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redgalahad/gifts).



> Hi! It's nice to be back with a fic, which I'm very happy about. Life's not been great lately, but I'm happy I can present this fic for Val, or redgalahad over on twitter! They do some very nice sheith art! I hope, my dear Sheithlentine, this fic pleases you! I've tried to do my best with the prompts, and thanks for answering my questions.
> 
> There's going to be three chapters. I've edited the first one, and just need to get through the last two. Shouldn't take long I imagine.
> 
> This was a fun piece to do. As a side note, the layout is on purpose. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy!

The sky above the desert is dyed blood red through to burnt orange, but a thick black plume of smoke climbs on the horizon. A fire – inferno – rages, and Keith can smell the rocket fuel from where he's fallen to his knees. It's miles away, but it's there, deep in his nose, clinging to his throat. _Suffocating_.

“ _Pilot error.”_

“ _Shirogane was sick, and now look what's happened. He shouldn't have been on that mission.”_

**They all end up dead, don't they?**

Keith averts his eyes with a choked sob. He mutters to himself, fingers clawing lines through the sand because _no_ ; Shiro promised. He _promised_ he was going to come back. Shiro didn't go back on his word. Shiro didn't lie. He didn't lie like _they_ did. Shiro wouldn't ever break Keith's trust because he knew how hard it was to earn it in the first place. Keith screws his eyes shut and collapses, hunched, into the sand. He raises a fist and punches the ground.

“ _When we get back, lets have another race across the desert. I expect you to kick my ass, okay?” Shiro looks down at Keith from the rocket and ship, primed to leave tomorrow._

“ _You promise you're coming back?” Keith knows Shiro will, but for his nerves, he has to ask._

“ _Well, Kerberos doesn't have mac and cheese and it might just be a bit too cold for my liking.” Shiro laughs with his hands on his hips, but lets them fall to the side. “I promise, Keith, I'll be back.” Shiro gives Keith that look, the one Shiro gives when he's being honest._

Keith's fist strikes the sand again.

**Liar. What a fucking liar.**

He punches again. No, no, no! Tears bead and snot runs. Shiro wasn't a liar! He _promised_. It's not like he would just make a mistake like this. They were liars – the Garrison – they were the liars!

**He wanted to get away from you. Just like Pa.**

“Keith!”

Keith's eyes open to a dark, starry night above him. He's laying out on the porch with a glass of milk and plate of cookies at his side. Hippo is here too, in his purple-grey glory and a spotty bow tie that Pa let Keith pick. Keith picks up Hippo and cuddles him tight against his chest. He smelt like warm sand and home. Pa calls again, and Keith finds he's not the weird gangly teenager he was in that bad dream. There's no Garrison, no rockets, and no one he knows called Shiro. Just a bad dream, but it was scary, and Keith was going to let Pa know. He carries Hippo, squashed against his chest, stroking the cotton like a lifeline, and toddles into the kitchen.

Keith screams high and shrill at his Pa. Hippo tumbles from his arms as Keith stumbles forwards like a newborn foal. He stands on Hippo as he stares terrified at the burning man, skin blistering and melting.

“Keith! What's wrong?”

The entire kitchen erupts into flames. Keith sprints to the door, trampling Hippo in his wake. Little fingers scrabble desperately with the handle until it opens. Keith hurls open the door and bolts out.

The world outside is burning. The metal skeleton of the Kerberos ship is warped and charred black. In the sand there are bodies. One. Two. Three. Four. Keith freezes. He counts again. Four. Why four?

“Keith.”

Keith collapses as the burned remains of someone with his Pa's voice struggles to crawl through the sand towards him. Keith whimpers in fear as he scrabbles backwards. The mouth opens again but no words escape it. A hand that trembles rises. It beckons Keith, but he can't. He can't do this. He can't, he can't, he can't!

**Run away, Keith. Run away like you always do.**

Keith's entire body trembles as he desperately scrabbles further away. The hand can't reach any further and then, in the wind, it becomes ash. The bodies become ash and are swept away.

“ _We're just not sure about Keith. He's a bit...difficult.”_

“ _I've tried to help you, Keith, but you won't listen. Do what you want. I've got more important things to worry about.”_

“ _I bet like your mom, your dad died so he didn't have to put up with you!”_

“ _You don't belong here. It was only on Shirogane's recommendation we took you on.”_

**No one wants you. Maybe you should-**

Keith jerked so violently awake he fell out of bed. With a long groan, he nursed his side before forcing himself onto his ass. He dared to peer at the alarm clock, those little red numbers blinking at him. _Three twenty-two in the morning_. Keith groaned as he pushed his trembling hand up through his sweaty hair. He used to blame the heat at first, but there was only so much lying he could do to himself. Keith used the bed to haul himself back up, taking the glass of water and downing what remained of the room-temperature contents. Keith wasn't a stranger to nightmares, but since leaving the Garrison, they'd become a lot more frequent, and a lot more terrifying. His eyes roamed over the twisted, sweat-soaked sheets, and there he was. Hippo, looking a bit tired, but still with his fancy little bow tie. Keith settled on the bed, pulling Hippo over into his lap. He toyed wistfully with the bow tie, and then the cotton that had bobbled over the years. Keith hadn't always been particularly precious of objects; but a few select things that his Pa got or gave him, like the knife and Hippo, were things he'd never let go of. They went everywhere with Keith, even if he kept them hidden.

When Keith looked at the clock again, it was gone four. With an exasperated sigh, he pushed himself off the bed and stripped the sheets. Fresh bedding, fresh mind. Keith snorted at his own optimism. Changing the sheets wouldn't accomplish anything, except that he was catching up on jobs he'd been putting off. As he stuffed them, and his clothes, into the washing machine, he padded naked into the cramped living room and pulled a shirt and boxers from the pile. He glanced over at the board against the wall, pupils following the lines of string and multi-coloured post-it notes stuck haphazardly here and there. Maybe Keith was mad he thought Shiro was still alive, but something in his gut _knew_. There was something he could feel, sense, but he just couldn't explain it. Keith's knee knocked a stack of papers as he crossed to the board.

“You didn't give up on me, and nightmares or not, I won't give up on you. No matter what it takes, I _will_ find you, Shiro.” In the dim lamplight, Keith stared with resolve at the photo of him and Shiro at the pre-launch party. Just underneath was the note he'd scribbled not long after he came here. Keith mouthed the words: _it's killing me when you're away._ He brushed a finger over the post-it with a sigh.

* * *

The lighting is bright and harsh on Shiro's retinas. It burns, it aches, just like him. Around him they lay. Bodies like islands against a multi-coloured sea of blood, sand, and grime. A raucous cacophony of noise erupts around him. Shiro's dazed, stepping around like a battered animal in a cage, as he tries to find sense or sanity; even a face. It's nothing but a blur. It's all a blur. Shiro stumbles forwards, whatever he was holding falls to the ground. Between the four white pillars and the walls of this place, he feels trapped. On unsteady legs he walks, he runs, he sprints. A way out. He needs a way out. Needs to get away from the dead and cloying stench of blood.

Something clawed grabs his leg. The sharp points pierce fabric and skin. Shiro's head snaps down to find glassy eyes staring back up.

“Murderer.”

Shiro wants to protest he isn't, but that roar around him becomes a single word. _Murderer_. He's frozen statue-still as the glassy-eyed corpse twitches back to life. Another shaking hand sinks frigid claws like needles into his inner thigh. It's from Shiro's peripheral that he sees it; the other mangled bodies dragging themselves across the floor. Shiro tries to rip his leg free but the corpse grasps tighter. Like a frog stuck in a boiling pot with the lid on, he can't get loose. Fear and anxiety bubble but there's no release. That's when something attaches itself to his right leg. The weight increases as Shiro struggles to yank himself away. He tries to fight the icy death grip, but it's useless. They tug, nails and claws tearing skin away like it's tissue paper, all while that word grows louder and louder, until it's the only thing Shiro can hear externally and internally.

“Stop it, stop it,” Shiro screws his eyes shut, teeth clenched tight as they pull him down, “stop it!”

“What good is a weapon that does not kill?”

Shiro's eyes snap open. He's in a place of pure darkness. He tries to move, but his limbs are constricted. He tugs his arms, but the chains are taut. He doesn't understand. Murderer? Weapon? The struggling doesn't help; if anything his bonds grow tighter until the metal is shredding his skin.

“You cannot escape.”

There's mechanical whirring from the blackness.

“You will not escape.”

Great yellow eyes without visible pupils open all around him.

“Not in one piece.”

There's a cackle, and then it comes.

By the song of metal, Shiro is impaled through and though from all angles.

Shiro swallows a lungful of air as he jerks awake. He cracks open his eyes, slowly, to a strange pale grey world around him. Fingers roam against flesh until he remembers the cold metal feeling is that of his own hand. He pushes the blankets away and lets his feet plant on the floor. It's wood. He doesn't remember the last time he felt wood beneath his feet. His ears prick to something. The sound of footsteps.

_Whose footsteps? Theirs?_

Shiro drops to the floor, using the bed frame as cover as he crawls along like a worm. The footsteps grow closer and closer, and Shiro's heart rate matches them until he pauses at the edge, ready to spring and defend himself.

_Stop them before they get you._

Yes, Shiro should stop them. He won't go; won't go back there again. He raises the prosthetic arm as the door knob turns. Before the door's open fully, Shiro springs with a roar. He drives the prosthetic hand straight up and through his would-be attacker. Shiro looks up, and sees his own wild, bestial features reflected back in brilliantly purple eyes. Blood trickles from the corners of Keith's mouth as he wordlessly tries to speak.

**I told you, Shirogane. You won't escape.**

Behind him, Shiro sees it.

Another version of himself, grinning maliciously from ear to ear. That metal arm caked in blood.

Shiro doesn't wake up screaming or shaking, not any more. Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, he made an assessment of the room. Small. A human snoring away on the floor. A neat stack of clothes on a chair below the window. Shiro tentatively pushed the sheets away as on tiptoe, he eased himself out of bed. Shiro can't remember the last time he felt a mattress, let alone warm. It felt too good to be true. As he approached the chair, uncertain when he'd gotten so good at sneaking around, Shiro noted a toothbrush and towel, and he felt the anxiety spike in his gut. _Luxury items aren't given for nothing_. Shiro didn't want to touch these things in case he woke up again. Another nightmare from where he'd been before. He wasn't even sure how he got here, if here was real itself. Shiro turned his attention back to the window. He peered out to find sand and dirt just below. He checked the sleeping person on the floor, and with that fear as fuel, Shiro carefully pulled the window up and hoisted himself out.

The world around him was painted in a pale light as Shiro's feet touched the ground below. He glanced around with uncertainty. The ground wasn't sun-baked, but it looked like it hadn't rained here in a long time. Shiro slowly paced away from the little building, drawing his hands up just above the elbows. He was still in the black and purple clothes he'd been wearing for a long time now. They stank, like him. Shiro wet his dry lips as his eyes started to grow accustomed to this light. _Natural light_. How long had it been? How long had it been since he'd breathed in air that wasn't recycled and dry? The air held an earthy warmth that tugged at his memories. From the corner of his eye, Shiro saw it, a lonely tyre swing. He stared at it as it lazily turned a little in the wind. He padded over to the tree, and dared to reach out. Bark. This was bark. This tree was real. _To any one this would look insane_. His thoughts were right, there was some level of insanity to his actions, but as Shiro let the weight of it take him down to his knees. He relished in the rough and weathered texture. Fuck it all. This was real.

“Uh, Shiro?” Shiro's body turned rigid at the voice. He blinked, then again, as he heard footsteps that came to a stop behind him. _That voice_. “Shiro, hey, are you, uh, are you okay? You left the, uh, window open.” Slowly, as if looking would shatter reality, Shiro turned his head. There, in the flesh, stood Keith with dishevelled bed hair. Shiro's breath caught in his lungs as he just _stared_ at Keith, those eyes focused on him in his entirety.

“K-Keith.” Shiro stammered out. He pushed himself up from his knees, glancing back at the tree, then Keith. “It's...I...”

“Hey, it's okay.” Keith raised his hands. His pupils flicked to the metal hand, and Shiro _knew_ there would be questions, assumptions made straight away. “Have you only just woken up?”

“No, I've been awake for...” Shiro didn't know how long he _had_ been awake. “It wasn't this light out, when I woke.” He supplied. They stood in silence, Shiro hyper-aware of Keith's pupils flicking over his form. His mind raced. Shiro should do something, not just stand here, but _he_ was _here_. Keith was _here_. It meant he wasn't in space, he wasn't with those _monsters_. Shiro was back on _Earth_. After...so _fucking long_ , he was back. It was like a weight was gone, even if Shiro had no recollection of how or why he was here. His body swayed, like it was nothing but a feather upon the breeze. Weightless.

“Whoa! Shiro! We need to get you back inside!” Shiro blinked, then looked down to find Keith against him. He blinked again, before Shiro pushed himself free of the embrace.

“Sorry, I might just be feeling a bit off. Maybe I need to sit down.” He laughed, of all things. Keith's expression was still marred with concern, and reluctantly, if Shiro was reading him right, he turned back towards the window.

“We can sneak back in that way, unless you want to go through the door. Just, there's others. Garrison kids. We might wake them up. What do you want to do?” Again Shiro blinked. When was the last time he had choice? Options? It felt pathetic, in a way, but in another it was exciting to be able to decide something for _himself_.

“The window.” Shiro found himself smiling as he said it. _When was the last time you did anything stupid like this?_ “Don't want to wake them up. I don't think I can handle questions.” Keith nodded, and motioned Shiro to follow.

It was like there was something bubbling away under Shiro's skin as Keith explained that yes, the clothes were for him, and he hoped Shiro didn't mind they were his dad's old things. Keith scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck as he pushed the clothes into Shiro's lap, along with the towel and toothbrush.

“It's not as clean as it could be in there. I mean, it's not filthy, just, I wasn't expecting visitors-”

“It's okay, Keith.” Shiro smiled at him, absently stroking the bundle of clothes in his lap. “I came at an inconvenient time, but, it's not like you could've anticipated it.” There was something in Keith's eyes, and frame, that gave Shiro a moment of pause. His head was still fuzzy, and this was the first time in forever he'd been around humans again. “So, the shower's through there?” Shiro ignored it, he was probably imagining or misunderstanding it.

“Yeah, yeah do you want me to show you how to make it work?”

“I should be okay, but thank you.” Shiro picked himself up. There was an itch; to shred the clothes he wore, even set them alight. He was free, and here, somehow with Keith and some Garrison kids. Shiro moved to the shower, and carefully set the clothes down on top of the toilet seat. Again, it felt _wrong_ for being so excited to use a shower, but as he toyed with the valve, Shiro felt that sweet, sweet water sluice down over his face. It didn't matter if it was cold, it felt _so good_.

With the thin rags kicked into the corner of the bathroom, Shiro slipped under the hot water. He let it cascade over and down his body, and closed his eyes. The steam crawled up his nose, and that bubbling under the surface started to swell in his gut. Up through Shiro's chest, his throat, and then from his mouth. A single sob. Shiro slapped his flesh hand to his lips as he leant against the tiles. Another followed, and then another. With a sad squeal almost lost to the water, Shiro slipped down the tiles. His body wasn't able to hold back the mixed bag of feelings he had. There were so many gaps, so much he didn't know or could barely remember, but he was home. It was good to be home. To be safe. Shiro felt the tears roll down his cheeks. Relief and anxiety. Euphoria and dread. Shiro curled up on the floor of the shower, keeping his sobs as muffled as possible. Was he allowed this? Just being free? Being _home_. Seeing someone he knew, and it being Keith of all people. The kid he'd once helped was here – had found him. It felt like the universe could be leaning a little more in Shiro's favour.

* * *

Shiro sighed as he walked down the dimly lit castleship corridors. Another nightmare, another shower. Every fight against the Galra seemed to dredge more memories to the surface, and with those memories came the unwelcome anxieties they heralded. Just like the arena; Shiro wasn't certain whether or not he was _really_ right for the job when his hands were so dirty. Did he unconsciously want to be a Paladin to find some worth or redemption? _Were his motivations right?_ Was he nothing more than imposter? Trying to regain what was taken away? It was these thoughts that kept him awake at night, tossing and turning, forever unable to get comfortable. He was a changed man now, and that wasn't something he could deny. When Shiro did sleep, the nightmares would come. At a guess, he was averaging about three to five hours of sleep _if he was lucky_ a night, until the points he'd just crash. It wasn't like he could really talk to anyone either about it. Shiro glanced at the thin line of light stretching out across the floor and up the opposite wall. He blinked slowly, before heading towards the door.

“Pidge?” Shiro peered in at the young Holt hunched over all her machines. “Did you forget how late it is again?” Pidge turned to him, dark circles just visible under her glasses. She gestured at her screens.

“I'm just working on a few things.” Pidge turned back around. “It's almost done.”

“You said the same thing two nights ago, and before that.” Shiro stifled a laugh as he padded in. He remembered at this age he used to be studying late, so it wasn't like he could scold her. “You need more rest then I do. Maybe you might grow a bit more.” Pidge cast him a displeased look, but like most things, she shrugged it off.

“Yeah, well, I just have loads of energy for this project right now. Especially because the other one – the search for Matt and dad – I have to leave on the back-burner.”

“I thought you were working on the Lions again?” Shiro arched a brow; she had so many projects, it would be impressive if she stuck to _just one_. Pidge waved her hand dismissively.

“I mean yeah, but I need to run some other tests and need Hunk and Coran's help for that one. Anyway, what're you doing up so late again? I doubt it's to remind me to go to bed.” She tilted her head back in her seat, really staring into Shiro's soul. He cleared his throat as he glanced away.

“Just working in my room. Going over things, the usual.” It was a half-lie. Pidge didn't need to know he'd woken up in a puddle of his own sweat over things that were done or maybe done to him, even if he _had_ been working earlier. Pidge nodded slowly at Shiro, as if trying to find a point of weakness.

“You know, you don't need to work yourself senseless, okay? Like I need to sleep to keep my mind sharp, as you said the other night, so do you.” She turned back to her array of screens, and with a grumble, turned them off. “Look, I'll be good and go to bed _this_ time. Just,” Pidge offered a warm smile up at him, “you go try get some sleep, promise?”

“With that deal, I don't know how I can refuse.” Shiro laughed, motioning with his chin to the door.

Shiro had always had a soft-spot for Katie, but as Sam's daughter, it was his duty to keep her safe, happy, and alive. Just like all of them. As Shiro waved Pidge off in the hallway, he turned back to his looming door. He was responsible for _all_ of them, and that outweighed his own moments of pause. He needed to be better; _do_ better for them. With a sigh, he opened the door. Shiro _would_ sleep. He glanced over at the data pad resting on the floor. Maybe he needed to stop bringing work to bed with him.

* * *

A group of robeasts have attacked the planet they're on, the biggest group sent by Zarkon yet. Black's grounded – they all are. Something about them means they can't form Voltron, according to Pidge, but the only thing Keith's focused on is protecting Shiro. Keith pushes Red as fast she'll go up the incline. He's getting closer. With a roar, Keith pushes Red to her limit. At the precipice of the cliff, as Red lurches to the top, then

down,

Keith's heart stops.

He can't see the Black Lion, just these new robeasts. They've swarmed on the co-ordinates of Shiro's location. An energy beam fires through the head of one, and it reels back, but seconds later Keith watches one of Black's wings leave the frenzied cluster. Two robeasts with open mouths leap from the group, and like hyenas, and fight over the wing between their jaws. Their purple-white eyes eerily familiar.

“Shiro!” Keith screams so high and shrill he didn't know he could scream like that. In primal desperation, he throttles Red forward. They sprint, all the while Keith forced to watch more limbs, pieces of metal, and sparks fly from the crowd.

Why doesn't it feel like he's making ground? Keith screams himself hoarse again, head snapping between the comms that still read as offline.

The group of robeasts part for a brief second. In that moment, the image is burned into Keith's mind.

In the middle of the fray,

the Black Lion lays broken.

The armour stripped away to nothing,

but a bare skeleton of warped metal.

Time has stopped, yet the robeasts faces all rotate towards Keith. Their round purple-white eyes stare at him unblinking, and then they turn back to Black. In their hands, long sleek blades _just like his_ materialise, but bigger. They all raise high, to strike a blow that's pointless at this point, but Keith still screams into the lonely cockpit to stop. He screams and screams, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes as they come down.

Keith screams himself hoarse as he tears a hand away, summoning his bayard.

“If I can't get closer to you bastards,” the tears are falling in Keith's pure rage, “then I'll bring you to _me_!” With the all-consuming fury, Keith slams the bayard into the port and forces it to the side. They will _burn_. The fire shoots from Red's gaping maw, scorching everything in its wake. Keith's teeth are bared, eyes narrowed on his targets as the flames lick against their bodies. “C'mon then! Here I am!” The robeasts turn towards him, one holding the head of the Black Lion within it's great metal hands. The red haze has Keith. He screams senseless at the beast that can't hear him.

The robeast raises the head of the Black Lion. In his ears, Keith can hear the metal groan. In horror, as the fire eats everything around them, the robeast compresses the head within it's hands, eyes forever unblinking. Keith's world shatters as in bewilderment – _crippling_ _desolation_ – there's a sickening screech and crunch. The crushed head falls to the ground.

Unperturbed by the fire, the robeasts move through it like demons; unblinking eyes set on Keith. The blades are raised to fight.

Oh. They want a fight?

Keith's hands grip the controls so tight it hurts.

They were going to get one.

They killed Shiro. These _Galra bastards killed him_.

**Aren't you one of those Galra bastards?**

Keith stops.

No.

Yes, but, he wasn't -

he wasn't like them?

Was he?

No.

_No!_

Three glowing eyes dyed red stare back at Keith through the cockpit's visual. He's about to speak, when something comes through the roof. It kills him instantly.

Keith landed face-first on the floor. He snapped his head around in fear and desperation, trying to pull himself away or out of what constricted his body tight. He dragged himself across the floor, thrashing his legs until they're free. He pushed himself deep into the corner of the room, hyper-ventilating and clutching his body so tight, nails pierced the flesh. Keith doesn't know how long it took him to calm down, but when his breathing is even, his eyes roam back over the room. The sheet's a tangled mess on the floor by the bed, and there, on the side, is the glint from his blade. Keith swallowed down the nauseous lump.

“Just a bad dream. You're not like them. Shiro's alive. He's just next door.” Keith soothed himself. He swallowed again, and moved towards his bag. He didn't _need_ to look around, but Keith didn't feel safe, and right now he craved that safety. With a stuttering breath, his fingers brushed that old, bobbly cotton. Hippo. Keith felt his lips twitch as he pulled the stuffed toy out, and held Hippo close to his chest. Unlike some of the others, Hippo hadn't judged him about the heritage he _knew nothing about_. Keith wasn't a monster – he wasn't _responsible_ for what happened for Allura, Coran, the Alteans, or Shiro. He wasn't responsible for what happened to any one the Galra hurt, and was actively _fighting against them_. Yet still, it was like he had to prove himself all over again. Keith rocked himself slowly on the floor, just drinking in the familiar scent of Hippo.

It was an hour later, and Keith paced his way through the dimly lit corridors of the castleship. He didn't have anywhere in mind to go, except that it wasn't his room. Lost in his own mind, Keith jerked as a rectangle of light enveloped the floor a few metres away. Keith blinked, then again. _The bridge?_ His thoughts would have to wait as Shiro stepped out in front of him. Their eyes caught for a few seconds, Shiro just as surprised to see him here by the looks of it.

“K-Keith? What're you doing up at this time?”

“The same could be said for you.” Keith crossed his arms across his chest. “Working again?”

“I'm guessing Pidge told you?” Shiro sheepishly replied, scratching the back of his neck. Keith nodded. She'd also noted that Shiro always seemed like he was fresh out of the shower, but he didn't look it this time.

“She's mentioned you tend to be up late working, and remind her she needs sleep.”

“Well,” Shiro raised his hands, “you caught me. I was checking over some star charts. You?” Shiro moved from the doors towards Keith, his figure cutting an impressive shadow across the floor.

“Just a bad dream. Nothing new for me. Thought I'd have a walk, clear my head and try again.” Shiro stopped in front of him, concern marring his face.

“Do you want to talk about it? I was going to get a glass of water before bed.” Shiro motioned back the way Keith had came, and without much thought, Keith agreed. He wasn't sure why Shiro needed to be looking at star charts this late. It wasn't as if he hadn't been earlier.

As the pair entered the kitchen, Keith leaned against the counter as Shiro grabbed two glasses without a second thought.

“So what's been on your mind?” Shiro casually asked as he filled them up. Keith shifted from foot to foot. Surely Shiro had to have a guess, all things considering. Keith sighed, glancing away as with a _clack_ , Shiro set a glass down for him.

“Thanks.” Keith nodded and pulled the glass over. He dared to glance at Shiro, catching the deep worry lines and circles beneath his eyes. “I guess it's...it just seems obvious. Maybe. It's the thing with the Blade-”

“With how they made you undertake that trial?” Keith caught the way Shiro's nostrils flared at the mention of it. Shiro had been willing to throw away an alliance – fight them all – to keep Keith safe. Keith took a quick sip.

“No. Not...that. It's the...other thing. The, uh, the being half Galra thing. But not just that. The first time we fought Zarkon, and that planet. Your injury. The fact you almost died.” The words tumbled from Keith's mouth, like he was admitting to something terrible. “I know...I know that you're strong. You survived for a year, and thanks to Ulaz, you came home, but I...” Keith drew his hands up, clutching himself as he looked away. “I don't want you to die – or go again. I knew that you were alive, deep in my gut, but that year was-” Keith flinched as Shiro's hand came down on his shoulder.

“Keith.” His tone was soft, soothing. Shiro gazed at him solemnly. “C'mere.” He stretched out his arms, and Keith let them draw him in. He rested his chin against Shiro's shoulder; breathed in his scent. There was a hint of sweat. “When I landed back on Earth, you were the last person I expected to see, but you were the first. When you came out and found me stroking a tree,” Keith chuckled along with Shiro, “you asked awkwardly if I was okay. You didn't press or pry, you gave me space. The Keith I know is a man of good intentions. He's kind, considerate, and passionate about what he believes in. He's a guy who cares about protecting others, and doing the right thing. He's maybe a bit blunt, and sometimes a little easy to rile up, but he's doing his best. So, if this kind, considerate guy is also half-alien, so what? Not all the Galra are the same. There're good ones; like,” Keith felt Shiro swallow, “Ulaz, who risked it all. The Blades are good too. You're good. Yes, there're bad Galra, but there are those too that are probably too scared to act due to Zarkon's tyranny. The universe is a grey place.” Shiro gently pulled back to look Keith in the eyes. “That much I can say with confidence. You didn't know, and it's not something you can change. The others will come around in time, but I've got your back. Just like you had mine. I won't abandon you just because you're part Galra, Keith. You're still a part of this team.”

The way Shiro looked at Keith, like he was the most precious thing in the universe, gave Keith pause as they parted. Keith took the water again, his mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

“Do you feel a little better?” Shiro drank from his own glass, Keith watching his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“Kinda, but I just worry still. That...” Keith trailed off. Shiro studied him, drinking again.

“My intention is to stay alive, but I also,” Shiro paused for a long moment, it seemed he was looking for the right words, “have to take care of you all in the fight against Zarkon. I'm sorry, if you felt me trying to push the leadership thing on you was too much. It's just.” Shiro now looked away, toying with the glass in his hand. Keith watched his expression change and flicker, as Shiro wet his lips. “I've survived a lot of things; things that I don't think I was _supposed_ to. Sometimes I feel I'm on borrowed time, and that's a real worry for me, Keith. If I ever,” Shiro bit his lip, “become unable to lead Voltron, I want you to lead it because I trust you. You're capable, I know it.” Shiro may be able to talk the talk, but there was something in his eyes that had Keith concerned. This was something Shiro clearly thought about a lot; to sound this eloquent Keith supposed. He nodded, wondering what exactly _had_ happened with Shiro, and again why he was still up. He was about to ask, but Shiro beat him to talking. “I think I'm gonna try and sleep again. I've got a feeling Allura will be running drills again in the morning, and if we sleep now we may get...a few hours I guess?” Shiro started off towards the door, Keith in tow. He decided to play it safe and ask another time. The heart-to-heart was nice to have.

“Thanks, Shiro, for talking.” Keith said as he caught up with Shiro's strides. Shiro hummed a response.

“Come talk to me when you need to. I'm here for you, Keith, always.”

* * *

In such a short space of time, the plan was coming together. This was great news in the fight against Zarkon, but bad news for Keith. The nightmares were more frequent now, and Keith felt his temper frayed quicker by the day. He couldn't afford to let that happen for the team, for Shiro, or for himself. He stopped outside the door of the training room. While sure, he trained in the day, it could help tire him out. Keith needed sleep, and this workout should do the trick. With a quiet hum, they parted for him. Keith walked inside and felt his eyebrows arch. The light was on down in the main room. That was strange; no one should be up at this hour. Sure, he'd found the others on occasions, but never here. As the lights flickered on around him, Keith approached the console. His eyes scanned the training level. They narrowed at how _high_ it was – even he didn't put it up that high. _Who on Earth?_ Keith peered out the viewing window. For a second, he didn't breathe.

Shiro was down there, that hand of his activated. Keith watched in fascination as Shiro drew lines of light in arcs and curves; as the sparks flew from the exchange of fierce blows. Keith swallowed as he pressed his hands against the glass. They'd all fought together, sure, but Keith had never _watched_ Shiro. Not like this, and not with the hand activated for this long. Keith blinked as the training robot's pole struck the ground a few feet away, and with a swift kick, Shiro's foot connected with the target. Keith watched it fall back to the floor, the light fading to nothing. The hand deactivated, and Shiro just stood there unmoving. Keith caught his own reflection. He was gawping. He stepped away, shaking his head. Shiro didn't train with them; not like this. He'd always shot down Keith's request to spar, but, he'd be the best person on to train with; especially after that show. Keith sat down in the chair, blinking at his own hands. Why didn't Shiro want to train with him? Did he think Keith couldn't hack it? Was it that Shiro didn't see him as equal? Was it because he still thought Keith was a little kid despite everything?

“I was wondering who was up here.” Shiro's voice cut through Keith's thoughts like a blade. Keith snapped his head up as Shiro came through the lift door, flesh hand ruffling the back of his head. Keith noted the sweat; and no wonder, Shiro was fighting in full armour. “I'm not one for an audience.”

“S-Shiro.” Keith swallowed down the lump that'd formed from nowhere. “You. The training. It's, uh, pretty high, isn't it? You're up late.” Keith stood up, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. Shiro silently scrutinised Keith as he moved over to the console.

“Is it? I hadn't really thought about it.” Keith almost balked at the nonplussed response. “I guess it is pretty late, well, early.” Shiro offered a smile, albeit tired, at Keith. “Another bad dream again? Or some late night exercise? You're not dressed for sleeping.” Shiro motioned at Keith's attire, which was true.

“Bad dreams, so I thought to try and make myself tired. Unless you sleep in your armour, why are _you_ training so late?” Shiro chuckled to himself, and that made Keith feel better about the conversation. “Did you wake up early as well?” Shiro turned away from the console with a smile on his lips, but he didn't look at Keith as he answered.

“Yeah. I'm a light sleeper these days, and once I'm awake I'm just can't get back to sleep. Besides,” he shrugged his shoulders, “like you, I think I might as well do something productive.” They fell to silence. Keith stole glances at Shiro. The lines under his eyes looked darker. He tried to recall the last time Pidge told him about Shiro pestering her to sleep.

“Shiro,” Keith started, “you're not trying to avoid sleep, are you? Your eyes,” Keith gestured at them, “look tired, and you seem to be up frequently enough to always find Pidge. I get we're near the end and everything's in order, but you've gotta be stressed yourself, right?” Shiro felt himself stiffen at the question. Keith was perceptive, which was one reason Shiro always wanted to keep a level of distance between them. Keith didn't need to know Shiro's trauma, just like the illness back at the Garrison, because what could he really do? Keith was kind, but Shiro didn't need Keith worrying about him; he'd already done that enough.

“It's fine, Keith. As I said, just a light sleeper. Nothing to worry about.” Shiro offered Keith a smile, but those amethyst eyes were hunting for something. Keith's arms dropped to the side.

“I find you here, sparring against the robot, when you never do with us, and this late. I just want you to be okay, and tell me if something's going on. I'm your friend, right? Friends,” Keith's brows knit tightly together, “talk, right?” Shiro blinked. Yeah, friends did talk. He placed his flesh hand on Keith's shoulder, gripping it tight.

“They do talk, and you are my friend, Keith.”

“So why is it you're distant about yourself, but want the others and me to talk to you? Why do you hide what's going on with you? If you want me to lead Voltron in a worst case scenario, why can't you talk to me?” Keith's eyes met his own, and Shiro's chest constricted tight. His own nightmares and invasive thoughts didn't help, especially when they involved Keith or the other Paladin's deaths at his own hands. Just like earlier. Shiro cursed himself for coming here, even if it was only a matter of time until he was realistically caught.

“I don't mean to be distant.” Shiro started carefully. “It's just, with where we are right now, I need to work hard to keep you all safe. That's my duty as a leader. With,” Shiro sucked in a sharp breath, “what I've been through, there's stuff that I _can't_ tell you about. Either because I don't remember, or because what I do isn't something I want to relive.” Shiro gave Keith a pleading look. “It isn't about not trusting you; it's about my own concerns over what I'm capable of. It's why I don't spar like that with you. It's a way of protecting you all from me.”

“You're not going to hurt us, Shiro.” Keith's brows creased further, as if what he said was strange. “You're too aware of yourself for that; a lot more cautious then you used to be.”

“I can still be reckless, Keith.” Shiro levelled back. “Would you rather I fight you like I do the sentries?” Keith opened his mouth as if to argue the point, but stopped. He sat back down in the chair, gazing up at Shiro, and then down at the floor.

“No. I don't know. I guess,” Keith brought his hands together in his lap, “I don't want you to feel like you have to do this type of stuff late at night when no one's around.” Shiro sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Keith was right to a point. It was late though, and Shiro wasn't sure he could formulate what he wanted to say.

“Maybe in time I'll warm up to it, but for now, this is just what I need to do – for me. Thank you, Keith, for talking. Sorry if I've made you worry. I think the stress might be getting to us all.” Shiro offered his hand out to Keith. His eyes drifted between it and him. With a soft snort, Keith took it.

“You don't have to apologise for anything. I think we both need sleep.”

“I think that's the best thing for now.” Shiro replied. “Maybe we can have some good dreams.” At this Keith's eyes widened, before he nodded to himself.

“Yeah, I could do with some of those.” They walked towards the door slowly, Keith quiet as per usual. “Do you have many good dreams, Shiro?” Shiro didn't reply until they stepped from the room.

“Good dreams tend to escape me these days.”

“I don't have many either.” Keith looked up at Shiro. It hurt to know his sleep was disturbed. “If you ever want to talk, good or bad, I'm always here to listen. You don't have to tell me about why you struggle to sleep, but if you have nightmares too? Maybe we can talk them through?” Shiro took Keith by the shoulder, and pulled him against his chest with a chuckle.

“Thank you, Keith. Once this is over, maybe I might loosen up?” Keith snorted, nudging Shiro in the side.

“That'd be nice. I like talking with you.” Shiro felt his lips twitch upwards. The words from Keith's lips always held a softness and sincerity, and when Shiro was in a better place, he'd try and return that back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's all edited now! So please accept this very angsty chapter that's painful for everyone. You'll get some comfort near the end :)
> 
> We're covering from s3 through to a little bit of s7 in this chapter, hence the length.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Keith, _please_.” Allura pleaded over the comms. “It's been five quintants now. I know-”

“No, you don't know.” Keith snapped, gripping the controls tighter. “I was right before that Shiro was alive. He's not dead. The Galra – the witch – she must've done something. You said yourself she could teleport. She probably snatched Shiro, and they're probably doing unspeakable things _again_ to him!” Keith clenched his jaw tightly together. They didn't understand – none of them understood. “Not like you care though, right? We're just expendable pawns in your game-”

“Oh _shut up_ , Keith!” It was Lance over the comms – of-fucking-course it was – coming to Allura's defence as usual. Hoping to get laid, the desperate fuck. “Stop saying we _don't care_ about Shiro, and don't speak to Allura like that! It's been five days! Five! I don't want to be a dick, but, if Shiro was out there, then we would've found him – you - would've found him!” Lance exhaled sharply. “If there was a body, Pidge and Hunk said the scanners would've picked it up. There was nothing in Black, Allura can't sense him-”

“Shut up!” Keith shouted. “Just shut your stupid, loud mouth for five fucking minutes and listen! I _know_ Shiro's alive! He sacrificed himself on _so_ many levels for all of us! What if he's out there now, or they've hidden him away?” He screwed his eyes shut to stop the burning pain, but to just ignore Lance. What did he know? What did any of them know? There was silence for a long time as Keith kept up his search.

“If Shiro was alive and in danger,” Allura said quietly, “then the Black Lion would react to their shared bond. I-If Haggar was to take anyone, then it would likely be Zarkon. Keith, we know that Shiro means much to you, and he meant much to all of us here, but he is _gone_.” Keith refused to listen. They were wrong. So, so, wrong. He cut the comms feed and turned his attention back to the battlefield. There could be clues here; something missed through the debris. Red rumbled in the depths of Keith's mind. There was concern there too.

“I'm okay, girl. I don't need to rest. I need to find him, bring him back all over again. I can't lose him, not again. I _can't keep losing people_.” It was a recurrent theme in Keith's life; everyone he cared about would leave in one way or another. Through sheer determination, because it _wasn't_ stubbornness, Keith pushed Red onwards through the remnants of their battle. He could feel his eyes twitch, but he had to hold it together. _Patience yields focus._

Keith shook his head vigorously to keep himself awake. He stuffed his fears and reservations down into the pit of his stomach, where they should remain. Just like the nightmares. His dad, Shiro, Ulaz, and Thace. All people he hadn't been able to stop from dying.

“Keith, you know that you can't stop what's outside of your control. It wasn't your fault. You don't – shouldn't – feel responsible for these things.” Keith snaps his head from side to side.

“S-Shiro! Shiro?” He let go of the controls and rose from the pilots seat. The cockpit was empty, but Keith could hear him. The elation brought a smile to Keith's lips as he rushes out through the door. There, just heading around a corner towards the hull of Red, Keith sees that unmistakable glint of white and black armour. “Shiro! I'm behind you.” Keith calls as he hurried after him. “How did you get...” Keith's voice trailed off as he turns the corner to find nothing. He just _saw_ Shiro come down here. “This isn't funny.” Keith plants his hands on his hips, trying not to let his good mood sour. “C'mon, Shiro. I know your sense of humour's a bit dark, but don't do this. I've been looking for you.” Keith wet his lips at the deafening silence. “W-Where have you been?” There was no answer, just the gentle creak of metal as Red continued her course. Keith could feel his pupils twitching. He scrubbed at his eyes, blinking back his vision.

The sound of footsteps behind him caused Keith to pivot around. He ran back the way he'd came, staring in bewilderment in both directions. He strained his ears, then heard them again. The cockpit. He tore back in to find no one, well, no one _inside_. Out on a piece of Zarkon's destroyed mech, stood a shadowy figure. Keith vaults back into his seat, glaring as the figure took shape. As it did, the air in Keith's lungs left in spluttered, broken gasps. A purple light glinted in their outstretched arm, and that unmistakable shape of the black bayard morphed into existence. Keith saw _those_ eyes.

“Get your hand off Shiro's bayard!” He screamed at Zarkon. How Zarkon got here, or the bayard, wasn't relevant right now, but Keith knew he had to fight.

“The former Black Paladin was weak.” Zarkon's voice filtered through Keith's helmet. “Like him, you too will perish by my hand. You fight like a Galra, but you are not one of us.”

“I'm _not_ murderous, evil scum like you!” Keith throttled Red forwards under a red haze. Zarkon propelled himself forward, bayard morphing into that same cannon that Keith had faced down before. Keith steeled himself as he called for the jaw blade.

In the middle of space, they clashed.

Until Zarkon,

came straight through the cockpit,

and that cannon went off in Keith's face.

There was no agonal death.

**You deserve death for such failure.**

Keith lurched backwards. His head struck the seat so hard he saw more stars then existed out the view screens. Keith clawed his hand over the armour, trying to clutch it like fabric as he came down. He didn't remember falling asleep. He was awake, he _knew he was_. Keith frantically rubbed his eyes, pleading with himself to calm the hell down. _Get your breathing focused, just like Shiro taught you._ He repeated it over and over in his head. Red rumbled again, longer this time. She was concerned and wanted to return to base. The other Lions felt disturbances within their own Paladins. They were worried.

“We can't go back, girl.” Through the haze, Keith gripped the controls again. “Not yet. We'll find him, we've _got_ to find him!” Keith tried to push the controls forward, but Red didn't respond. He tried again to his frustration. “C'mon, why are you refusing?” There was no rumble in his mind. Instead, Red turned around through her own volition, and shot off in the direction of the Castle. Keith swore as he tried to regain control, but she'd locked him out. He despondently fell back in his seat, drawing his hands up to his face as he doubled over. “He's _got_ to be out here.” There was a sympathetic rumble in the depths of Keith's mind as his body shook. The tremors became more violent, until he broke out in uneven, desperate sobs.

* * *

Tonight's nightmare didn't feel like one. Keith already felt it was him against the universe, but apparently his mind just _had to make it worse_. He'd taken his frustrations out against the training robot, and now was on his way to get some water. No one should- Keith stopped at the start of the corridor and noted the light on, and then the scent of something _baked_. With apprehension, Keith moved forwards to the kitchen door, and cautiously poked his head around the corner. His heartbeat relaxed when he saw Hunk with his back turned, leaning over one of the counters.

“Hey, Hunk.” Keith nodded at Hunk as he walked in. Hunk jerked in that way he did, those large, brown eyes finding Keith.

“Aw man,” Hunk placed his hand against his chest, “you scared me, Keith. I wasn't expecting anyone else up at this time, you know?” He lowered it as Keith hummed in response. “So, you, uh, hungry? I'm making some cookies for later, but you can have one if you want?” Keith glanced at them. They smelt good, but he didn't want to linger or talk to Hunk for too long. Part of Keith wondered how baking cookies was even a _thing_ considering they still hadn't found Shiro.

“I'm fine, Hunk.” Keith forced a smile over his shoulder. “I didn't know you baked this early.” There was a pause that had Keith take notice. Usually Hunk would talk and talk; not like Lance, but enough.

“I just, uh, you know, couldn't settle right. Probably a one-off.” Something in Hunk's tone said otherwise, and Keith couldn't exactly place it, but his gut said Hunk was lying about something. Keith moved to the sink, filling the glass. He could ask, but the air around them seemed to steadily grow intenser as the seconds ticked by. As Keith turned the tap off and went to leave, Hunk finally broke the silence. “I'm really worried about you.” Keith stopped a few steps away from the door, muscles tightening rigidly.

“Why?” Keith clutched the glass harder. “Do you think I'm crazy as well? Do you think I need to stop? Are you going to tell me I should give up on Shiro?” He tilted his head to look over his shoulder, but there was no irritation in Hunk's face like past teachers, no pity like the social workers, and no eye rolls like his previous peers. Hunk was just Hunk; he was sincerely worried.

Hunk shifted uneasily on his feet, large hands toying with the apron.

“I'm worried because you're pushing yourself hard, and I think you're going to burn yourself out if you're not careful. Asking you to give up on Shiro would be like asking Pidge to give up on her family: it's not gonna happen. So I'm not gonna ask you to stop. I think,” Hunk scrunched up the apron tight, “after all the scans you've done of that battlefield, you'd have found him by now. I just wonder, if he's not there, whether we need to look for him elsewhere? Or get info? See if the Blades can dig for anything, you know?” Keith glared at Hunk, who cowed at the look. “I'm not saying give up! I'm not saying move on! I'm just saying, or asking you, to keep looking but in another way. Pidge can probably help, if you ask her, you know?” Keith turned his attention back to the door, glowering at it. Hunk had a point, even if he didn't want to admit to it.

“This isn't a way to try and get me to sit in Black, is it? I know you guys have been thinking about it.”

“No...and no one can force you to sit in there either. I'm sure as heck not tryin'.” There was the hint of humour to Hunk's words, but just that. “I mean, maybe none of us are right for Black anyway? Maybe we need a new person entirely? Until we find Shiro.”

“Do you actually think he's alive?” Keith asked. He pressed his teeth into his bottom lip at the silence. _Didn't think so-_

“I honestly don't know. I didn't think aliens existed until a few months ago, or that I'd have cooked in a space mall, or piloted a giant robot cat that turns into a giant man...bot...thing. I mean the universe has weird space magic, and things I don't understand. So, Shiro could be alive. I mean you held on for a year, right, and he came back 'cause you had that feeling. I guess, if you have that same feeling, then I trust it, you know?” Keith heard a sigh, and the clatter of a plate. He turned to find Hunk dishing the cookies up. “I'm just worried about you, man. I'm not looking for an argument.” Keith noted how his hands moved with a light tremor.

“Are you stressed?” At this Hunk half-laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, bake a lot when I am.” Keith blinked at such an admission. “I'm just worried; as said, and just the team as a whole right now. We're all feeling lost without Shiro – we know you're suffering the worst.” Hunk looked up at Keith, those dark eyes once again found his. “We're here, well, I'm here, if you ever want to talk.” Keith's lips twitched as he turned away and went to leave the room. His muddled thoughts spun in his head.

“Thanks.” Keith called back just before the doors closed. He could at least say that much to Hunk.

* * *

From Shiro's place in the Black Lion's consciousness, he watched the other Paladins each seat themselves in the pilot's seat. Shiro wasn't sure how much time had passed since he died, but it was similar to the year he was away in that respect. Black was judging the Paladin's to find who she wanted to pilot her, and Shiro would respect her judgement. They'd grieved together; Black losing him, and Shiro realising his fate. It had taken time, but Shiro supposed he wasn't truly dead. He was here instead. This space, this beautiful plane, was somewhere Shiro could exist, and finally now he could really assess himself and his thoughts. From here, he could also sense the other Lions, and Paladins when they were piloting. It was a strange feeling; to be so close, yet so far away at the same time. His biggest concern was Keith, and the feelings he could pick up whenever he piloted Red.

“I'm surprised,” Shiro mused as Allura stepped out of the Black Lion, “you didn't accept her.” He heard Black's reply from everywhere around him.

“ _Allura has another destiny.”_

“Do you plan to tell me what that might be?” Shiro glanced upwards into the sea of stars, but Black chose not to reply judging by the long silence he received. With a sigh, he glanced back down at the ground that reflected the sky above. “Hey, do you know how long I'll be here? Will I,” Shiro played with the words on his tongue for a long while, “be here as long as Zarkon was?”

“ _You will be here until you are released, like Zarkon before you.”_

“It'd be nice if you were less cryptic.” Shiro placed his hands on his hips with another sigh. It was strange, that Keith hadn't come yet. Then again, from their talks previously, Shiro knew that Keith didn't _want_ the position. “Black, if you accept Keith, like you did back on that planet,” Shiro folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed down on the empty cockpit, “is there any way I can communicate with him? To tell him I'm here? Would he be able to sense me?” Again, there was silence in the nothingness.

“ _Only if Keith and I truly bond, like you and I did. Only then will he be able to sense your quintessence.”_

Shiro bit his bottom lip and felt no pain from the action. Here pain, hunger, sleep; none of it was necessary. While it was nice to escape that aspect of the mortal coil, Shiro knew Keith wouldn't be able to. He didn't want to have to watch Keith crumble before his eyes in the cockpit. Shiro sucked in a breath like he used to do in life. “Black, don't pick Keith. I know you let him before but,” Shiro felt he should have a lump in his throat, but he didn't, “please. This isn't something he'd want. As your old pilot, does my opinion count for anything?”

“ _I will pick who meets my criteria. If Keith is not worthy, he will not pilot. If he is worthy, he shall. You only exist within my confines, but, Shiro, you have no power over my sentience or will. You are not Zarkon.”_

“I'm just begging you, to not put him through that.” Shiro stared up above him. There was no reply to Shiro's plea. Black had a resolve, Black knew what she wanted, and Shiro couldn't stop her. His attention turned back to the cockpit, and with a sigh he settled upon the ground. “I'll be here, to watch over you like the times you've watched over me. I'll do my best to reach out.” Shiro had a hunch that Black would choose Keith, and it was something he wasn't going to enjoy seeing and sensing play out. Shiro wasn't sure if this limbo was a type of hell; a place to pay for all the sins he committed in life, even if he could barely remember them.

* * *

Shiro wakes, well, doesn't really _wake_ from the indescribable state of being and not. It's like stasis, or what stasis could be like if he'd experienced that. The point was, Keith's energy had entered Black, and that caught Shiro's attention. Shiro didn't know what time it was outside, but as Keith came into the cockpit, he certainly wasn't dressed to pilot and was carrying something close to his chest. Shiro took a calming breath as he felt out for any other hints of the others across the plane. His closed eyes twitched as he found nothing. Shiro reopened his eyes, attention back on Keith as he drew himself up into the seat, the stuffed animal, Shiro realised, still close against his chest. It looked worn; like it'd seen better days. Concern and curiosity at Keith's appearance kept Shiro where he was.

“Why did you have to pick me?” Keith muttered, voice sleep-rough, to the empty cockpit. “You saw how I did against Lotor. You saw the mistakes I made. Why would you _pick me_ when Allura would've been better for the job? I didn't want this; I'm not _built_ for leading. I know you trust Shiro's judgement, but he was _wrong_.” Keith toyed with something on the toy. Shiro's jaw clenched tight. No, no he didn't want Keith to feel like this.

“Keith.” Maybe if Shiro tried, he could get through. He didn't care what Black said, he had to try and help the man curled like a scared child in the pilots seat. “Keith, I told her right now wasn't right, but please, Keith, _please_. You're not a bad leader like you think! You're _learning_ , and you'll make mistakes. Keith, _please hear me_.” Shiro dropped down to his hands and knees, nails dragging against the ground as Keith sniffed desperately to himself. Shiro had never seen him like this, and now he would in a space Keith considered safe. He came here for a reason-

“-they act like everything's okay, like Shiro's just a distant memory.” Keith spat the word. “I still don't believe Shiro's dead; just like the last time. They might've given up looking for him, but I haven't. _You_ ,” Keith glared upwards, those bright eyes comparatively duller and the most tired-looking Shiro had ever seen, “seem to have given up as well.”

If Shiro could get goosebumps or feel a chill, he was certain he'd of felt it after those words.

“Keith,” Shiro _needed_ to get through to him, “Keith I'm _here_! I'm in Black. Don't think she's given up when she saved me in this space.” He pushed a hand through his hair, not like it would do anything. Keith curled deeper into himself, body quivering as he tried to muffle the sobs that started to spill out. Shiro punched the ground in a bid to get out of this prison. He couldn't _take_ seeing Keith like this. “I'm not gone, I'm here. Please, don't give up! You'll find a way; I know you will. You've never given up on me since you found me, and I...won't give up on you!” They were desperate words that fell on ears that couldn't hear him. It was infuriating, to be so close but so far. Shiro slammed his metal fist against the ground uselessly, but the action only brought limited catharsis. For who knew how long, he was stuck here, watching Keith quietly sob into a little stuffed animal he called Hippo, and muttering something about how he wished the nightmares would _stop_.

No matter what, Shiro was going to find a way to contact Keith. He had no idea how, but he was adaptive and resourceful. If he could survive a year of hell, he could survive this. He just needed Keith to be able to.

“Don't you ever do anything reckless, you hear me? You're smart, but people like Lotor are manipulators. They know how to rile you. Don't let him win, Keith, don't let him outsmart you. I'll be here with you every step of the way.” Maybe Shiro needed to hear these words himself, to make it feel like he had a purpose, or maybe he hoped Keith would magically hear his speech. Maybe none of it mattered at all.

* * *

It'd taken some time, but Shiro had found a way to manifest some...aspect of himself within Black. He supposed that the atoms that comprised himself still existed within the universe, and that was how he was able to do it. It wasn't like he was a ghost that Keith could see, and certainly couldn't sense. Keith couldn't hear Shiro when he fired off compliments for an excellent job well done, or tried to soothe Keith's anxieties. It was arguably a hopeless and pointless endeavour, but it was something that kept Shiro going as he tried to find a way to reach out. This was a start. Keith's night visits had increased too; those nightmares appearing worse each time. Sometimes Keith would talk them out to try and make sense of it, but every time he came here, Shiro noticed Hippo was always with him. Shiro felt sombre each time he saw Hippo clutched like a lifeline in Keith's arms. It had to be old; a childhood toy maybe? As someone who now owned no earthly possessions; even when he returned to Earth, it struck Shiro differently how important it was to have something grounding. He'd even push to say he felt envious though he shouldn't.

Shiro felt something shift within Black. He looked up from his position leant against the back of the pilot's seat.

“What can you sense?” There was a pregnant pause before Black replied.

“ _You.”_

Black typically spoke in nothing but monotone, but this time Shiro swore he could sense a hint of something uneasy in the single word.

“Me? What do you mean?” This didn't make sense as Black took control. In front of him, Keith said Shiro's name like it was a prayer; like a miracle. The atmosphere in the cockpit changed for the first time from hopelessness and desperation, to optimism and elation. Keith spoke so fast into the comms to alert the others. He needed a wormhole to these co-ordinates. A small blip was on the radar. Shiro didn't understand what was going on.

It was a rush of noise, movement, and light. A wormhole. Shiro tried to ask Black what was going on, what she meant, but Black didn't understand it herself. Just that she could sense _him_ despite the fact he was within her. Shiro almost missed Keith's words.

“It's been killing me you've been away, but I found you again.” His voice wavered; the way it did before Keith was about to cry. “Please be okay. Say they didn't hurt you like when I found you.” Keith's voice cracked. “Please, let me in this time. Let me help you, like you helped me.”

As Black grabbed the fighter in her jaws, Keith managed to get a visual of _what_ was inside with assistance from Pidge. A body, face obscured by the helmet, limply hung in the seat. Yet this body – this thing – was like him but **not**. How, when, why, and what purpose was there for _this_ to exist? This...copy. Shiro tuned out Keith's shouts of his name, the promises he was safe, that they'd found him, they'd get him back to the ship.

“It's good to have you back.” Keith's voice held a tone that Shiro hadn't heard; much lower, tender. He paced around and saw for himself how Keith's features matched that tender timbre; one that Shiro would associate with a lover. He couldn't get nauseous, but something gave Shiro pause over how _much_ Keith cared for him. Well, this facsimile. He was still here, unable to reach him, while this copy was here for a purpose Shiro could only assume was sinister.

“Black,” Shiro was surprised at how dark his tone was, “don't you dare let that thing on board. I don't trust it.” Black was silent as Keith sprinted through Shiro, a look of sheer relief painted on his face. Shiro felt cold for the first time since he came here. As Keith's quintessence faded from the Black Lion, Shiro let himself return to the astral plane. The pain was agony; like he'd been stabbed with ice through the heart. On one hand, Shiro knew Keith wasn't to know any different. On the other, how could he _believe_ it after so long? Shiro stared through his hands, his entire being.

This had to be a nightmare. Everything until now couldn't be real; it was so ludicrous, _insane_. Aliens? Magic robot cats?

**It's real, Shirogane. You can't deny it.**

**Besides? What use can you really be here?**

**None.**

**Give up, or live in this waking nightmare.**

Shiro screamed. He screamed past the point his voice should logically go hoarse. It echoed in his ears. Fuck this nightmare; fuck this astral plane. He was going to find a way out; find a way to contact Keith or anyone else. There was no way in any reality he was going to let a clone or whatever of himself hurt the others.

* * *

Keith's late, and Kolivan's going to scold him for it. He runs along the corridors to the sound of his own breath and footsteps. If he's too late, they won't be able to pass through the safe zone for a few days. Kolivan won't leave without him, he said they needed Keith on this mission; his position was integral. Keith curses himself for sleeping through all his alarms; for letting down Kolivan who was willing to give him a chance. As he reaches the hangar and the doors part, Keith skids to a stop, heart pounding.

There's nothing here.

Where's the ship?

Kolivan said that he was needed for the mission!

They couldn't have just _left_ without him?

Keith sprints back through the doors and through the winding corridors. It's empty – more empty than usual. A roiling sense of dread starts to build in the pit of Keith's stomach as his feet pound against the floor. _Where is everyone?_ He thinks to himself. Almost running into a wall, Keith propels himself off it and around a corner. He breaks out on to the bridge.

It's the bridge of the castleship ship instead. Keith snaps his head around. He turns back and runs through the doors, but it's the castleship still, not the Blade's HQ. Like a newborn foal, Keith nervously re-enters the bridge to find the others in a group. They're huddled tight together. Keith can hear their laughter, hear Shiro's vibrant chuckle before he claps his hands together. They haven't noticed Keith yet, but it feels good to be back here. Keith tucks his hair behind his ear as he walks over, raising his arm. He's even missed Lance, of all people, not like he'd ever admit to it.

“Hey, guys, I'm back from a mission.” The group doesn't look up. Maybe Keith's been too quiet? “I'm back!” He calls, but again they ignore him. Shiro glances up, but it's like he's looking straight through Keith as opposed to at him. That roiling anxiety worsens. It sours and curdles in Keith's gut. Why? What the hell was this about? They'd left on good terms, so why were they ignoring him? Keith stilled as he heard Lance pipe up.

“You know, it's _so_ much better now mullet's gone. Urgh, do you remember? How it was all 'I lead by _my_ way! Get lost if you disagree! Do a better job!' Like, excuse me, Keith,” Lance gestured wildly with his hands, “I've been flying Lion's longer then you. Besides, he couldn't say much about piloting when he couldn't even pilot Black right!”

“It is nice,” Allura smiled over at Lance, and then Shiro, “that I have not been berated or told to 'keep up' since the run-in's with Lotor. Piloting Blue was so new, and you all were so much more supportive then Keith. I suppose it is his Galra nature, after all.” There were murmurs of agreement around the group. Keith felt a chill down the length of his spine. How could they speak like this in front of him? With a growl, Keith shoved Lance.

“What the hell is your problem?” Lance didn't react. None of them reacted.

“Keith just isn't leader material.” He spun around to Shiro, arms crossed across his broad chest, and face serious. “He doesn't listen, he's reckless. He could've had you all killed. It's a good thing I came back when I did, and Black chose me to pilot again.” Shiro sighs and shakes his head, turning his attention to Keith. “I don't know what I was thinking, putting trust in a hot-headed little kid with anger issues. It's no wonder people gave up on him in the foster system; he just never helped himself. I was too optimistic he'd change for the better, but I was wrong.” Keith couldn't believe it. His heart broke a thousand times over.

“No, no, Shiro, you don't mean that!” Keith ran to him in desperation. On one hand he wanted to throttle Shiro, but on the other Keith wanted to shake him and scream. “Tell me you didn't mean that!” Keith scrabbled for Shiro's prosthetic arm, but it wouldn't budge. Shiro had no concept he was there.

“Keith's the Blade's problem now, so Kolivan can see how pointless it is keeping him around. Keith will break mission, ignore the rules, and probably not bother bonding with anyone. I'll admit,” Shiro moves past Keith with a stretch of his arms, “it's nice there's less arguments now. Keith has a thing about him; puts people on edge.” There were murmurs again of agreement and nodding heads. Keith barely registered Hunk saying he looked like the type to shoot up a school. He screams in anger and runs.

Fuck this.

Fuck them.

Of course they never fucking cared!

Wherever Keith runs to, it's not the castleship, nor the Blade's HQ. When his eyes open, there's nothing around him at all. An all-consuming blackness. Fragments of long-spoken words committed to memory whisper around him at different pitches. Some words are louder then others. The noise builds, and builds, and Keith slaps his hands over his ears because it's _not true_. He's not a failure, he's not a good-for-nothing, he's not an uncaring piece of shit, he's not the reason his dad ran into that fire. Tears threaten to fall as Keith collapses to his knees. The words are insidious. They wiggle and worm their way past his hands and settle deep within his brain. It's on repeat, like a broken record. Keith grits his teeth so tight he feels them break. He slaps his hand to his mouth to find blood, eyes catching the broken shards of teeth on the floor.

Suddenly, the voices stop.

The world changes to nothing but blistering white,

and a single mirror appears in front of Keith.

Keith looks up and double-takes. He has no pupils, just yellow eyes staring back. His ears have become more pointed, while his skin is starting to turn purple. Nails fall off and claws tear through, while his new teeth pierce through empty gums. All he can taste is the thick blood in his mouth. It's cloying in his throat, threatening to suffocate him where he's fallen.

“You chose to give up your human attachments and individualism for the Blade.”

Kolivan?

“Bonds merely get in the way. Your job is fall in line, do as you are told. Do not break rank. Yet you do? Why?”

“How can you say that?” Keith drags his claws across the ground. “What of Antok? Thace? Ulaz? Regris? They were people; they had lives! They didn't have to die!” It's as if speaking their names has summoned them all to the mirror. Keith punched the ground. “Don't you care? We're more then that! I came to you to learn more about myself – to grow – not become Galra!”

“They knew their place. Knowledge or death. Do you think yourself above that, Keith? Do you think yourself of more importance? Do you comprehend war? Sacrifice? Or is this the weakness of your humanity? You think yourself worthy of life?”

The world around him feels like it's quaking. Keith hisses through his new teeth, clutching his body so tight the claws pierce skin. He knows of these things, but-

“You do not! It is why you ran here; ran away from your responsibilities!”

It's in that moment, that memories flash across the mirror. Of his father, of school, of foster parents, of Shiro, the Garrison, the other Paladins, of Red and Black, of him being 'too busy' or 'too tired' to spend time planning with Shiro, of his errors leading, and attempts to push Shiro back into Black. All the times he ran when it became too much. Fangs punctured his already bloody bottom lip as Keith slumps forwards.

“Will your humanity stop you from acting Galra? You are not special, Keith, you are another number; another statistic. Your death will be to further the mission, not for glory.”

**Failure of a human AND Galra?**

**What're you going to do, Keith?**

**You'll prove them right.**

Unlike the times before, Keith didn't wake with a jerk or fell out of bed. This nightmare, this convoluted nightmare that tried to address too many issues at once, was just as messed up as his own thoughts. Keith reached for the glass of water at the side of his bunk. His hands were the same paleness they always were. No claws, and certainly no razor-sharp fangs as Keith brushed his tongue over his teeth. In silence he sipped the water, and just inhaled and exhaled to the well-taught rhythm. He...he wasn't like that, really, was he? The other's didn't think he'd ran, had they? Kolivan didn't think that, did he? Keith shook his head. No, no it was just his imagination. Of course they didn't.

_Yet._

Keith set the glass back on the side and reached for the data pad. Taking a deep breath, he swiped and tapped at the screen until he found Shiro's details. Shiro had told him before he left, he was always welcome to contact him whenever Keith needed to, and it helped to have that lifeline. He hesitated; he wondered whether it was simply too late to reach out. What if Shiro was asleep? Would he mind if Keith woke him up? Then again, there was the memories of Shiro up late, of their occasional run-ins on the castleship. Keith sucked in a sharp breath, before pressing the screen. It felt like an eternity as it connected, and then rang through. One minute and thrity-seven seconds later, Shiro picked up. Keith felt his lips twitch at the white floof, sticking out at weird angles. Shiro hummed, blinking his eyes.

“Hey, Keith. What's up?” Shiro yawned, but offered one of those warm smiles back that put Keith at ease. “Surprised to hear from you so late. Or...early.”

“Sorry,” Keith offered a fleeting smile in return, “I just, I, uh, just wanted to speak with you.”

“Oh?” Shiro, as he smoothed his hair back, gave a more attentive look. “Is it mission details? Is Kolivan there too?”

“No, no it's nothing like that. I just,” Keith's heart fluttered with anxiety, “I want to speak to you. Just you.” Shiro studied him carefully. Keith could see the cogs moving behind his eyes, before Shiro leaned in.

“Keith, are you okay? What's wrong?”

“Do you remember, when I used to tell you bits about my nightmares?” Keith watched Shiro's pupils move as if he was trying to recall their talks. “It was a while ago – I think we met just outside the bridge once.” Keith supplied. Shiro nodded his head, but something in his eyes made Keith wonder if he did remember. “Well, could I...maybe talk about mine again?”

“Judging by the fact you've called me now, I'm going to guess it wasn't a good one, right?” Shiro, to his surprise, cut straight to the point. He almost looked relieved. “I admit, I've been having some weird dreams myself lately, but you first.” Shiro coaxed in that calming way of his, and Keith found his throat dry out. Why did he decide to do this?

“I dreamt...well, it was a really weird. Kolivan left me behind, and then I found you guys, but none of you saw me and...” Keith trailed off.

“What's wrong, Keith? C'mon,” Shiro smiled, “you can tell me.” Keith nodded. He could do it.

“You guys couldn't see me, and spoke about how good it was I wasn't there. Then I was by myself, and then there was a mirror and I was purple, well, Galra, and Kolivan was in my head-”

“Keith.” Shiro's voice was clear as a bell. He closed his mouth, noting the way Shiro's brows pinched tight together in concern. “Are you okay? Are they treating you well? Not too much pressure? You can come back if it's too much. I wish I was there,” he stared down at his hands before looking back up, “to give you a hug, and tell you that yes, you are missed, and the team isn't the same without you. I mean, sure, Lance has actually grown up a little bit. I know, I thought the same,” Shiro laughed at Keith's arched eyebrow, “but, it's not the same as having you around. You're irreplaceable, but I know that wherever you are, you're going to do great, and will shine bright. Kolivan's lucky to have you on board, and no matter what you think, you're good at your missions. You know, you're your own worst enemy at times.” Shiro had...never been this open – candid, even - with him before. Keith blinked, wishing he could pinch himself to see if he was really dreaming.

“You're, uh, you're not just saying that?”

“No, Keith,” the way Shiro said his name sent a good chill up his spine, “I mean every word. I want to apologise if before, you thought I was ever trying to push you out. I think I'm worse, after the second time with them.” Shiro's lips tightened into a thin line. This was _much_ more open for Shiro normally. Keith wasn't going to complain, but there was definitely something off.

“Hey, Shiro, is everything okay?” Keith gripped the data pad in both hands. Shiro's pupils moved off to the side; he was visibly uncomfortable. The pair sat in silence until Shiro managed to speak again, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“I'm having dreams – weird, bad dreams – that feel so real. Failed escapes, being unable to protect you or the others, and _her_.” Shiro rubbed at his eyes. “the wit- Haggar. I know it's not real, I know it's just my head, but sometimes I worry. They had me since after that battle. What did they _do_ to me? Did they do anything or am I imagining it?” Shiro snorted as he rubbed his eyes again. “It makes me not feel like me, if that makes sense?” Keith nodded as he picked apart all the little moments him and Shiro had spoken about things like this. There wasn't many, because Shiro had just as many walls as Keith did. Yet, they'd agreed to talk after, but they'd never gotten around to it in the end.

“I think after everything that happened, it make sense you think that.” Keith replied. “Like I said last time, about the sparring, I think you're worried over nothing. Pidge did her scans, you were in the pod healing up, and you're pretty much the same. Just a bit shorter then before.” Shiro nodded slowly to himself.

“You think I'm shorter? As in my temper?”

“Yeah. Has the stress got to you more this time round? You think that's why you're getting the nightmares?” The noise Shiro made is stifled; but Keith's certain he's hit something judging by the look he's got back.

“Can you blame me after what's happened? That I might be more irritable?”

“I'm not blaming you, just saying it would make sense.”

“It'd make sense if I could remember more, but I don't. I dunno, you're probably right. This is just a subject that frustrates me.” Shiro exhaled deeply, schooling his features into something more collected. “Either way, this isn't about me. Let's talk about you, since you called me to talk. This is important to you, and I want to hear it.” Shiro pushed himself back into his pillows, and in that moment, Keith felt a swell of good feelings he couldn't really explain. It – this – was nice. To feel cared for, that he was valid. Keith wet his lips as he mimicked Shiro, hoping this feeling would last. Maybe he could have nicer dreams.

* * *

The pair stared out into space from the observation deck. It was good to have Keith back on the ship with them, especially after Naxzela. Shiro held Keith tightly against his side, content just listening to him _breathe_. Keith was here, he was alive. All thanks to Lotor.

“I'm angry at myself. I wasn't there. While I'm happy Lotor saved you,” Shiro looked down at those otherworldly eyes that had lost their shine, “I feel it should've been me.”

“Even I didn't get to save you again.”

“Don't talk like that. I know...but why? Why did you try and fly at her ship?”

“Voltron is the most important thing in the universe when it comes to fighting the Galra. Remember? You liked the sound of defenders of the universe. No Voltron, no defenders.” Keith shrugged against his side. “One life doesn't matter when billions are on the line.” Normally, Shiro would agree. Yet this life was Keith's. Shiro wondered if this was the Blade's work at play, and could feel the anger curl in his gut. He was going to speak to Kolivan about this; they were supposed to be keeping him safe, not letting Keith slip into situations where he could _die_. “Shiro, are you okay? Your grip's pretty tight.” Shiro relaxed his hold with a sigh.

“I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. We all were when we heard.” Shiro noted the soft gasp at his side.

“I bet Hunk will be stress-baking tonight.” Keith pushed himself around with a sigh of his own. “Does Pidge still stay up?”

“She does. Hunk's got better about sleeping since his stress-baking days, which is a good thing. Lance...well I don't think I've ever seen him up.” Keith rolled his eyes, which had Shiro smile at least. “And I'm about the same. Less nightmares now. You?” Keith shrugged his shoulders.

“I've not had as many lately.” He tilted his head to the side, that silky-soft hair tumbling over the skin-tight armour Shiro had to remember not to stare at for too long. “I might be lucky and have some nice dreams. It's been...good, to see you all again.”

“As I said the time you called, we do all care about you. _I_ care about you.” Shiro wet his lips. He couldn't lose Keith; at all. Keith stared at him, and Shiro wondered if it was the light, or whether the pale blush on Keith's cheeks was real. “I really care about you, Keith.”

The way Shiro said his name felt as good as when Keith swallowed lungfuls of air after near-suffocation a few times. He'd entertained a few thoughts alone in his room. It felt good, but strange, that Shiro was being this open. If Haggar had done something to Shiro, it probably wouldn't be something like this. Maybe it was just because Keith had gone on a suicide run effectively, and Shiro was trying to be nice? The thoughts had bounced around in his head, as they did depending on how well missions went. Keith exhaled in exasperation at his own mind.

“C'mere.” He spread his arms wide, and Shiro scooted over for an embrace. He needed this now, especially after everything as of late. Some missions hadn't gone to plan, and Keith's mood had spiralled. Shiro's body was warm, and they slotted together like they always did; like they were supposed to. “Thank you.” Keith mumbled against Shiro's pauldron. Shiro hummed in response, clutching Keith's armour a little tighter. He could hear Shiro swipe his tongue over his lips, as if he wanted to ask something. The question never came, or there never was one, as they parted. Shiro smoothed his hands against the body suit, not able to look at Keith for a few seconds.

“I'm just happy you're here. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't. But really,” Shiro's lips tugged into a tender smile, “thank you, for going above and way beyond what you needed to do.” Keith wasn't sure what triggered it, but Shiro recaptured him in another tight embrace. It was probably the weight of it all coming down. Hopefully now, this war would be over soon.

* * *

Keith felt a weight settle on the trunk beside him. His mother, in the stoicism he'd started to break through, sat with her lips nothing but a thin line. Keith glanced away, hand deep in the fur of the little blue wolf pup sat on his lap. The visions were worse then the nightmares. These weren't distorted; they were raw and visceral, and Keith had to sit through not just his, but his mothers past and future. He felt a hand slip over his shoulder slowly; felt the fingers squeeze carefully.

“Keith. There's a chance that these visions of the future may not come to pass.” Krolia tried to soothe. Keith's pupil's didn't budge from the wolf pup in his lap. Keith couldn't understand how Shiro would ever willingly raise a hand, let alone his arm to him. They didn't even spar. Yet the thing that caught Keith's attention most was the eyes. He grunted as he shifted on the trunk, pupils boring holes into the small pup. He'd thought Shiro had odd moments, sure, but never dwelt on it. He'd found excuses to explain away the behaviour. Keith stilled his hand. “I know it's hard, but please speak to me.” Her tone caught him off-guard.

“I should never have left them. If I'd stayed,” Keith swallowed, “I'd have seen through whatever Haggar did to him. I should have realised from the start it wasn't him.” He grit his teeth tight together. It burnt. This was something Keith should've realised.

“You weren't to know.” Krolia finally said, squeezing his arm reassuringly. “No one really knows what she is fully capable of. Shiro may not know himself. I think,” she tilted Keith's face towards her, and he looked into eyes just the same as his, “you will be able to help him; save him. From what you've said, and what I've seen, your bond is deep.” Keith slowly blinked as he brought his head back to the centre. He glanced down at the little wolf in his lap. It yawned with a whine. Keith was responsible now for the little guy.

“Dad and Shiro both kept me safe; they both did a lot for me. I want to protect Shiro, and help him through whatever happened to him. I want him to be free of them for good.” Keith glanced up into the sky above, the abyss staring back in it's strange beauty. “We'll get through this, and then we'll get back. Until then, I want to train. Will you train me?” Keith looked up at his mother. She gently nodded her head, grip still steady on his shoulder.

“Of course I will. I need to make up for lost time, if you will allow me to.” They both shared a smile. It was strange having a mother now, but Keith wanted to bond with her as much as she wanted to with him.

* * *

The last few months had been a painful experience. The copy wasn't as sinister as Shiro had originally thought. That was until Keith's energy returned; a signature Shiro knew with ease even after so long. Keith was fraught, anxious. Shiro watched in silence as he fought, chased after, and called out to the clone. It hurt like Shiro was being ripped in half. It hurt more then any pain he could remember in life. The cockpit was cold, empty, and Shiro could feel Black get progressively more and more restless as the minutes ticked by. He hadn't forgotten the other Paladin's, who were just as restless from where he could sense them through the plane. The atmosphere crackled around him. It was when Black moved, Shiro could feel her concern. When he felt Keith's quintessence, and the clone's. He watched in fascination as Keith set the clone down with care to the floor, before vaulting into the chair as frantically as earlier.

“Black-” Shiro stopped when he felt a presence here with him. He turned, and found Keith there. Keith whipped around, uncertain of where he was, but Shiro knew he could soothe him. Finally, Keith had managed to connect with the Black Lion. Shiro could finally explain to him what'd happened. Maybe Keith and him could talk more in this plane. That'd be nice, Shiro thought. At least he could see the man who'd done his best to save him, and other iterations of himself, through such selflessness. “Hey, Keith.” Shiro started as casually as he could. Keith's gaze found him, mouth agape.

* * *

As Allura drew Shiro's quintessence from the Black Lion, it felt like this was the final goodbye. Keith had found a way, just like he always did, and Allura worked her amazing magic as she did too. When Shiro's consciousness entered the clone's body, he was met with it's own consciousness. So confused, so jumbled, so _desperate_. It was then Shiro realised he'd misjudged the clone. So many memories that resonated positive feelings, an overwhelming love for Keith, his own fears and insecurities Shiro could understand intimately. The clone had never wanted to hurt anyone, and for this, Shiro could respect that.

The space they shared was timeless, beyond the astral plane, and perhaps beyond space. Shiro looked over the clone, who looked back at him. He was scared. Shiro offered out his hand.

“I know this is uh, pretty weird, but should we try make this easy?” He asked. The clone looked between the hand and him.

“Will I cease to exist?”

“I don't know. I'd rather someone with, uh, pretty cool hair, not be gone. I hope not, because I can see, and tell, you tried.”

“I _hurt_ Keith.”

“You were being controlled. It wasn't you – me – us. You care about him, right?” Shiro watched as the clone nodded.

“I do. He's been there, constantly saving us over and over. He's done...so much.” Shiro could believe the clone's words. He drifted closer.

“Keith is one of the most amazing people I think we've ever met. He's going to go far, isn't he?”

“He will.” The clone swallowed as he drifted tentatively towards Shiro. “Promise me, you won't let me vanish?”

“I'll do my best. Just, let's try and be the best Shiro we can be for him, for the others, okay?” Shiro and the clones fingers brushed. “My memories are yours.”

“And yours, mine.” The clone closed his eyes, and Shiro closed his.

* * *

Shiro floats on a sea of blackness. Or doesn't. There's stars. Then there isn't. He's drifting. Floating? Shiro doesn't know. He's not wet but he's cold. It's like cold-damp, which he knows he's experienced once. He doesn't really know when or where it happened, but there's a lot he doesn't know. Shiro felt he used to know things, but in this strange cold abyss of nothing, everything he thought he did know felt inconsequential. Nothing truly mattered, because he didn't matter. That was fine, Shiro thought, as he wonders briefly what purpose there is in existing. He can't find one, and that was fine, Shiro thinks again. The thought leaves him.

Slowly, everything that makes Shiro himself leaves. Little snapshots of memories play out like a short film on fast forward, and once they fade, Shiro's knowledge of them is gone. Each facade he'd meticulously crafted over the years comes and goes without any fanfare. Self-referential memories are gone. The ego slips away not long after. There's an awareness of sinking, of nothing, of eventual stillness.

Shiro blinked as he stirred. Keith's already at his side with a hand on Shiro's shoulder. He glances at it, and then back up to Keith's concerned face.

“Did I wake you this time?”

“No,” Keith replied, “I wasn't asleep. You were muttering again. Nightmare?” Shiro chewed his bottom lip.

“I'm not really sure. It was like an existential crisis meets crippling depression. So not really anything new. I don't think I died in my dream that time, and for once, it didn't have you dying either.” Shiro smiled wryly, before he sighed. “I'm sorry. I thought things would be better after I came back, but-”

“Shh.” Keith hushed him. “Look, stop apologising. You've been through a lot, and part of you was stuck in the Black Lion for months. I should apologise, for not realising sooner.” Shiro clicked his tongue. Keith shouldn't blame himself.

“No, you didn't know. You hadn't bonded right with Black-” it was like a tsunami when it struck; memories – fragmented but still memories – of watching Keith, seeing him, the clone. Shiro's body went rigid, and Keith's eyes widened.

“Shiro? What's up, what's wrong?” Shiro was vaguely aware of Keith's words, the way both hands clapped to his shoulders, but he was stuck in his own head _again_. Shiro brought his hand to his mouth, trying to process what had hit him like a train. The anxiety was all-consuming. Shiro wanted to study the memory again, but it was plucked from his mind's eye. Keith. In the cockpit. A purple-grey thing?

“Hippo?” Shiro blinked. Then again. Keith stilled, eyebrows drawn tightly together.

“Hippo? What're you on about?” Was Keith defensive? Shiro couldn't tell as words tumbled from his mouth.

“The cockpit. Before him- me. You came. Nightmares? A hippo against your chest.” Shiro dared to glance at Keith. His expression was unreadable. “Maybe I imagined it. Sorry.” he noted the hands draw away.

In silence, Keith stood up and left the room. He felt wide open and raw; that Shiro'd seen him like that. He trudged through the Black Lion until he got to his room. Krolia wasn't in sight as he entered, which was fine in his book. She knew about Hippo, but Keith was still sensitive about the stuffed toy. With a sniff, he pulled his bag up and went back to the room him and Shiro were sleeping in. A murmured apology met Keith's ears upon entry, but Keith didn't respond. With a sigh, he set the bag down in front of Shiro.

“Open it up.” Keith settled back where he'd been, hands clenched tightly in his lap. Shiro looked at him, and nodded slowly. He made quick work of opening it to Keith's surprise, and pushed his hand into the bag. With care, Shiro removed the old stuffed toy. “Did it look like that?” Shiro set Hippo down on top of the bag, peering at the toy, before nodding again.

“When I was,” Shiro gestured with his head upwards, “in here. I saw a lot. Every time you came into Black. I'm sorry, for seeing you at your most vulnerable.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?” Keith muttered, drawing Hippo into his lap. Shiro glanced away, drawing his hand around his waist.

“How do I start a conversation like that, Keith? I'm barely even sure about my own memories right now.” At this Keith looked up, body tense for a few seconds, before he exhaled sharply.

“You're right. Sorry. This is just...” Keith toyed with Hippo's little ear.

“The little guy means a lot to you. Is that why you're like this? I'm not going to say anything. Promise.” Their eyes locked for a moment. Shiro was sincere, but Keith couldn't help feeling like a little kid.

“I guess, with your memories merging, it has to be confusing. Before you'd been remembering the clone's more. I don't think I registered that you'd have memories from being in here.” Keith chewed his lip in thought. “You're right about Hippo. He means a lot to me. This is the last reminder of my Pa; the knife of mom until I found her. Do you...remember how much you heard? When I was in here?”

“It's hazy. I'm trying to grasp memories, but like,” Shiro paused, before snorting to himself, “well imagine trying to catch Coran when he had the slipperies. It's like that.” Keith's nose crinkled at the reminder, but he managed a smile. “I honestly don't know, but perhaps it's best to assume the worst. I didn't, you know, mean to watch.”

“No, I...I know.” Keith knew in his heart that Shiro wouldn't pry any more then necessary, but the idea he'd seen Keith so vulnerable and so intimately was a strange notion to quantify. He supposed it brought them closer; Shiro saw him so raw, and now Keith was seeing him in a similar spot. “I'm sorry, for saying what I did. For walking off without a word.”

“It's okay. I...understand.” Shiro swallowed, glancing around the room. He tugged the blanket up his body. “It's not you, but I think, I need to get out of here. Maybe being in Black isn't doing me any favours. I can't settle like I used to, which is strange considering the connection we once had. Not like I ever settled well, but you know.” Shiro laughed, but there was a hollowness there to it. Keith wasn't sure if moving was a good idea; whether a new location would disrupt Shiro's sleep more, but then again, maybe being stuck in the place he'd been for months was hard.

“Who would you go in with, if you do?”

“Probably Pidge, if she'll take me that is. She knows when to lay off, and probably will keep me distracted enough. I guess,” Shiro leaned back against the wall, “I can actually make sure she sleeps? I could try and have a regular sleeping pattern. That'd be nice.” A regular sleeping pattern _would_ be nice, Keith thought. “I'll see how I get on. Maybe it's just my mood at the moment; I don't know.”

“Well, whatever you do, I'll be behind you. You've always got a space here, with me.”

“What about Hippo?” Keith blinked at Shiro's warm smile. Shiro's lips twitched, the smile growing wider and wider, until Keith was mimicking him. They both laughed. It felt good, nice, to break the tight atmosphere.

“I guess he doesn't mind. Providing you show the proper respect.” Shiro nodded, and bowed his head. Keith snorted at how ridiculous he was being, but it was comforting, to see elements of his friend again.

The pair resettled into a comfortable silence. Shiro occasionally hoisted the blanket up himself, and Keith brought his own blanket over. Hippo remained at Keith's side, and the longer they were like this, the more relaxed Keith became with Hippo out in the open. They touched on sleep again, on problems they both had, until Shiro piped up.

“I remember we used to have a cat. Her name was Aiko and she was this fluffy little thing. I went back home for a few weeks after I got my diagnosis, but I always felt less stressed when I was around her. I sometimes think, when this is all over, I'd like to get a cat again.” Keith swiped his tongue across his lips.

“Kosmo's like that for me. We found him as a pup, and petting him has been...really stress-relieving. You can pet Kosmo; he's big enough to hug.” As if on cue, Kosmo teleported into the room. The pair chuckled, and Keith grinned as the wolf licked at his cheek.

“It's good he likes you so much. It's nice; you have no idea how much at ease you look around him.” Shiro's eyes closed as he settled down. Keith brought his hands up into Kosmo's thick mane of fur with a warm feeling in his gut.

“He doesn't judge, and he's got a really caring character. When he was little, he'd try and fight stuff bigger then himself on the space whale, and I'd have to deal with it to keep him from trouble.”

“Sounds like someone I know. I don't know if I've said it before, but you've done so much for me, and brought me back so many times.” Keith noted the small twinkle in Shiro's eyes as his face softened. “I don't know how I can thank you.” Keith buried his face into Kosmo's fur to hide the burning in his cheeks.

“You don't need to thank me. I do it because I care about you.”

“I care about you too.” Shiro murmured. “I care about you a lot. Lemme get myself...like myself, okay? Then we'll talk again.” Keith's fingers stilled. He pulled himself away from Kosmo, to find Shiro gazing at him with tenderness in his eyes. Like the clone once had. He swallowed.

“After the war? Give us both some time?” At this, Shiro nodded.

“Yeah,” he yawned, “after the war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Last chapter soon, and much much shorter. You will get a LOT of softness in that one.
> 
> Any comments are always welcome ^_^
> 
> See you shortly!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! This is your primary comfort chapter. There's one more weenie bit of angst later, but the comfort right after haha. I chose to time skip after the war ended, so they're back on Earth recuperating. It's been a bit of time since.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this, and of course, Val, I hope you enjoy it. I really hope it didn't get too 'lethal', as the notes mentioned. I promise I did my best to behave there.
> 
> This is really fluffy otherwise, with a note for some OC therapists. I was reading about Image Rehearsal Therapy being a practice used to help people with PTSD manage their nightmares. I've managed to research a lot into sleep schedules and general good sleep hygiene, actually, so it was a nice fic to write in that respect.
> 
> But please, enjoy.

“So, here's the prescription. As I said, be wary of the side effects, and don't operate any heavy machinery or drive...I would also say don't transform the Atlas either. I want you working from home, and to switch off, okay? I know your job is quite particular, Shiro, but you need to focus on your recovery.” Sylvia waggled a finger at Shiro as she ripped the sheet from the pad. Shiro snorted softly as she pushed it towards him. It'd taken a while to find someone he gelled with, but Sylvia made him feel at ease. Like he wasn't some curiosity to prod, poke, and study.

“I'm sure Keith will make sure I don't throw myself into work. I know I can't, like I used to.” Shiro leaned back in the chair, pushing his hand through his hair.

“It was unhealthy, but I'm glad you've come to realise that and are making steps forward. They're small, but you'll get there or at least find a way to manage it better.” Sylvia smiled as she took the glass of water at her side. “Is Keith picking you up today?”

“He is. Also with a surprise, apparently.” Shiro's lips twitched into a smile, and Sylvia crossed her leg over the other. “I've been trying to figure it out.”

“Of course you have. Are things going well since you moved in together? He's still your room mate, isn't he?”

“Yeah, we're still just friends. Well,” Shiro glanced off to the side, “we're not dating, but it's a bit more then just platonic now.”

“Are you happy with that, or do you want more?” Sylvia levelled back. They'd discussed this a few times, and every time Shiro found himself hesitating. There was fear there, fear which didn't make sense, he knew, but it brought reservations.

“I do, but it's the same problem. I just get snagged with the what ifs. What if something happens to him that I can't stop? Do you think,” Shiro felt his phone vibrate, “we can talk about this next time?” Sylvia's face softened, and she nodded.

“Just before you go,” she picked some leaflets out from her draw and handed them to him, “some light reading for you, about some of the things we've discussed today. Things will work out, Shiro, but you need to remember it takes time. Having said that, don't let something or _someone_ you love slip by through anxieties of a 'what if'.” It was Shiro's turn to nod.

“Thank you. Have a good day, okay?” He folded the leaflets and neatly put them in his jacket pocket, along with the prescription. Sylvia bade him goodbye, and Shiro left.

Stepping out of the ward, Shiro found Keith waiting in the car. Judging by the way the sun bounced off red bodywork, Keith had cleaned it. Kosmo was in the back, ears pricked forward in Shiro's direction.

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro said as he opened the door, a snout pushing its way through the hole in the headrest. Shiro chuckled as he got in, giving Kosmo a reassuring pat.

“How'd it go?” Keith asked, and Shiro withdrew the prescription. “What's it for?” Shiro handed him the slip, and watched his eyes flick over the note. He nodded slowly to himself. “Same as mine then.”

“Yeah. Gods,” Shiro slipped it back into his pocket, “I feel like an old man, on medication like this.”

“How do you think I feel?” Keith snorted as he pulled away. “I mean at least you look the part, white hair and all.” Shiro cast him a pout, but laughed all the same.

“I really hope you go bald for that comment,” Shiro smirked at the way Keith's nose crinkled at the thought, “but eh, the session with Sylvia went well. I'm happy, she's nice and I feel I can tell her anything. It's a far cry from how I used to be. Do you think I've got better?” Shiro watched Keith mull it over, before nodding.

“Yeah. When you came back to Earth all those years ago, I mean, aside from the tree-stroking, you were cagey. I mean it always made sense with what happened. I guess over time, your walls came down.”

“Well, you kicked them down in your own way.” Keith shrugged his shoulders. “You've opened up a lot more as well. Not just with me, but the others. It makes me happy, you know.” Shiro placed his hands in his lap, staring out at all the other people going about their lives. There was something comforting in seeing how after so much trauma, Earth had seemingly bounced back to how it was before, well, mostly. It was nice to be able to live like this for the first time in years.

“The others grew on me, but like hell am I ever leading again. That is _way_ too much work. Ah, this pharmacy?” Shiro glanced up, and nodded.

-

Kosmo teleported off into the apartment as the two stepped from the car. Keith _hoped_ that Shiro was going to like his surprise. He should do, especially when Keith had shown him a few weeks ago. As they took the stairs, talking about anything and nothing, Keith slipped ahead of Shiro.

“Okay. I need you to close your eyes.” Shiro blinked, but complied. “Okay. I'm going to lead you along. Open them when I say so, got it?”

“I got it. I mean if you've cleaned up the pile of your dirty laundry, that'd be great.”

“And it'd be great if you didn't set the fire alarm off whenever you cook, but here we are.” Keith pouted as he lead Shiro through the hallway and into the front room. Kosmo was already stretched out on the sofa, head tilted to the side in curiosity. He glanced down at the small blue 'box', then back up to Keith. “Wait.” He said to both Shiro and the curious wolf. Carefully, he undone the latch, and grinned. “Open your eyes, old man.”

“I'm not an- _Keith!_ ” Shiro pointed at the little kitten that tottered out on it's little stumpy legs. It squeaked, big blue eyes darting about. Keith felt Shiro shuffle carefully over to his side, completely taken with the little silver tabby fluff-ball. “They're so...is this the one?”

“The one I shown you a few weeks ago? Yup.” Keith settled back as Shiro let the kitten sniff his fingers. It's little pink tongue lapped at them, before it looked around. “Happy? I remember ages back, you spoke about your old cat, Aiko. I've been waiting for the right time to uh,” Keith gestured at the kitten, “get you a cat. You've spoken on and off about it, and animals are really good for stress relief.” Keith glanced over at Kosmo, who continued to lounge without a care in the world. Like Shiro, Keith couldn't imagine a world – universe – without the wolf, especially since he crashed not long after they came home.

“I'll make dinner tonight, but I'm gonna take Kosmo out for a walk.” Keith stretched out his arms, pretty certain Shiro's attention was going to be entirely on the kitten. Before he got up, Shiro took his hand. Their eyes met, those stormy grey ones with a hint of moisture.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed, before he pulled him into a tight embrace, “thank you. You've no idea what this means to me.” Keith relaxed in the hold, arms slipping around Shiro's waist.

“I think I know it means a lot. You know I just want you to be happy.” Keith was aware of Shiro's fingers curling into his shirt, how his grip tightened as he clutched Keith like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.

“Do you mind,” Shiro's breath ghosted his neck, “if I sleep in with you tonight?”

“It's probably best to stay in your own room, but I'll join you.” Keith absently stroked the peach fuzz at the base of Shiro's neck. “You can pay me in hugs, how about that?” Keith caught Shiro's earlobe between his teeth as he pulled away. His reply was Shiro squeezing his ass cheeks.

“Sure, providing you keep your hands to yourself.” Shiro arched a brow at Keith as he reached for the kitten. Keith knew he was pouting when Shiro's brow raised higher and that shit-eating smirk got bigger. He opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again.

“I'll remember that the next time you wander into my room. I'll see you later. Kosmo, c'mere boy.” Keith matched Shiro's smirk as Kosmo rolled off the sofa and padded over. He gave the kitten a sniff and a lick, before coming to Keith's side.

-

Shiro closed the living room door with a smile. He was certain Keith picked up the kitten as a means to keep him distracted from work, and maybe this was the distraction he needed. Kosmo, and the newly named Susumu, seemed to be content in each others space. Susumu even going as far to sleep on Kosmo. Shiro paced along towards his room and found Keith laid on top of the sheets, book in hand and mouthing along to himself. Without looking up, he tossed Shiro's shorts over.

“Nightmare diary?” If it was, it was the first time Shiro had seen the book. Keith had been a bit quiet about it. Much like Hippo, there were things Keith still kept guarded.

“Yeah. I'm trying something I've had at therapy. You rehearse the nightmare but change the ending. I'm doing _that_ one.” Shiro nodded as he folded his shirt and put it in the wash basket. “I don't understand why you fold dirty stuff.”

“Force of habit. Is that the dream where I'm trying to murder you, or the one with that Macidus guy?” Shiro settled down on the bed, watching Keith's pupils move across the page. “Is it helping?”

“I don't get the you trying to killing me ones as much now. Jurgen thinks because I've exposed myself to you and I kinda...knew about it before, so it wasn't as bad as it could be. Macidus is the one I'm trying to deal with. That one's easier, compared to the others.” Keith set the book down in his lap, and Shiro's attention fell to the fine scar just above his elbow. Tentatively, he stroked his finger over it. It was nice to hear that Keith didn't have nightmares about him now, but the fact that they were working through the PTSD together helped immensely. If it wasn't for Keith's crash, Shiro was certain he'd have tried to dodge therapy. “I'll see how it goes. I expect Sylvia will suggest this at some point.” Keith leaned over the side of the bed, and Shiro spotted some fine scars under his shirt. “I can feel you eyeing me up.” Keith snorted as he flopped back around, prodding Shiro's forehead.

“I was just looking over the ones on your back.” Shiro traced his finger up Keith's side.

“You've seen them before; it's not like they're new.”

“I know.” Shiro sighed as he traced the flat of his finger across Keith's collarbone. “I just think you should've never got scars like this.”

“The same goes for you. When I saw them, your arm for the first time, gods, I had questions. But you're here; we're both here.” Keith scooted closer, placing his hand on Shiro's hip. “That's all that matters to me.”

Shiro pulled Keith into a tight embrace, hooking his leg over Keith's pale thigh. Shiro pressed his lips to the crown of his head, momentarily scrunching his nose at the hair in his mouth. Keith hummed, hand slipping into the small of Shiro's back.

“What have I done to deserve this?” Keith kissed Shiro's neck, a chill running the length of his spine.

“Hmm, I don't know? Saved my ass countless times? Supports me when I needed it? Introduced me to his very respectable Hippo? Makes dinner? Brought Susumu into my life?”

“Sucked your dick.” Keith added. “I'll try not kill the mood.”

“You,” Shiro rested his chin against Keith's head, “have sucked my dick. I think, though, the meds killed my mood before you made that comment. I'd just rather have someone close for a few nights, if you don't mind entertaining it. No pressure for anything.”

“Well it's not like I'm going to say no.” Keith wiggled free of Shiro's chest, flipping his hair back. “I like time like this with you. It puts me at ease, but I think you've always known that.” Shiro did know. Keith allowing Shiro to see him like this really brought it home _how much_ Keith did trust him. He felt his heart race, lips move. Keith squeezed his hip. “What's up?” Shiro brought his face down, and Keith raised his. It felt like their lips touched before they did. When Shiro felt the softness of Keith's lips against his own, he melted into it, holding Keith as tight as he could. They'd kissed; but not like this, not _this_ intimately. Nails tracked skin. They broke, for a few seconds, before kissing again. Shiro gently rolled Keith on top of him, drawing his prosthetic hand up into the back of Keith's thick hair.

“I love you.” Shiro whispered against Keith's lips. “I love you, and I never want to let you go.” Keith slowly blinked, before kissing him again. Shiro's flesh fingers pushed under his shirt, dragging against the skin.

“I love you too.”

* * *

Keith pulled his jacket collar up as sat in the waiting room with a private smile on his lips. It was the type that would have Lance or Allura asking questions for sure. The last few weeks had felt like a dream; a good one. Shiro finally returned what Keith had said all that time ago, and now they had the love bites and scratches to prove it. Shiro could at least blame Susumu for the scratches, but Keith's collarbone was harder to explain away. Not that he would.

“Mister Keith Kogane?” Keith glanced up at the short receptionist. She smiled, and motioned along the corridor. “Jurgen's ready for you now. Did you bring your diary?”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded as he rose from the soft chair. “Thanks for letting me know.” Keith walked the path he knew well down to Jurgen's consultation room. He knocked on the door once, before entering with a dip of his head. “Hey. How's the leg?” Keith motioned to the leg, at least out of it's cast. Jurgen's lips twitched momentarily, before he slapped the top of his thigh.

“Getting there. Teaches me for not looking where I was going. So, Keith,” Jurgen clasped his hands in his lap, “how have you been? You seem happier, a bit more of a spring in your step.” Keith settled down in the chair, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Things are good, actually. Shiro and I are, well.” Keith folded his arms across his chest, the word sat on the tip of his tongue. “He's my boyfriend now.”

“Oh! Congratulations!” Jurgen brought his notepad over and opened it to a new page. “Did you manage to ask him?”

“No,” Keith sniffed with a bashful smile, “he beat me to it. I wasn't expecting him to ask first, but I'm happy. Really happy. I know before we messed around a bit, but he was still kind of aloof. I think the kitten was the push, maybe the therapy. He hasn't said, but I'm not bothered about asking.”

“While there could be many different factors as to why Shiro asked, I'd take it in the here and now. I'm pleased for you, Keith. I imagine it's improved your mood?”

“Yeah, it has. I've had a few weeks of decent sleep aside from Shiro settling into his meds. Dreamless, which was surprising. I've been taking Kosmo out on longer walks as well. He's enjoyed it, and I've been tired.” Keith hoisted his bag onto his lap, and pulled out the diary.

“Have you still been rehearsing the nightmare?” Keith nodded, watching Jurgen scribble that down. “Good, good. How's that been going?”

“Lately it hasn't been needed, but before that it helped a bit. I mean,” Keith leaned back in his seat, wringing out his hands, “despite the fact I killed Macidus, I still found it weird I had nightmares of him. There was this experiment in space – this monster – that was worse then him.”

“This Macidus fellow, from what you've explained to me, was the first real foe you faced alone, wasn't he?” Keith nodded. “Unlike the monster you've briefly,” Jurgen skimmed back through previous pages, then tapped his pen, “described before, Macidus had intelligent thought. Rather than trying to kill you on instinct, like this monster, he was pre-meditated in his approach. You said before he had killed the rest of the Blade of Marmora?” Again, Keith nodded and sunk into the chair. He recalled Kolivan, strung up by all his limbs, how hurt he was- “Keith, Keith.” Keith blinked, staring back into Jurgen's pale blue eyes. He smiled reassuringly at him. “What happened then was out of your control. A lot of what happened in your time in space was out of your control.”

“But I...I feel like I should have been there. To stop it. Kolivan – he was alone – I know how it feels to be...” Keith trailed off, pressing his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Take your time, Keith.” Jurgen nodded as he settled back in his chair. “There's no rush, and if this is too much for you, we can move on.” Keith merely nodded, trying to collect his thoughts. He had to do this; had to try. He'd gotten better at confronting this stuff, he just had to find the words. It was communicating it that was the hard part.

-

When the door finally opened, Shiro made a beeline straight for it. Keith moved lethargically inside and just as slowly shut the door with a soft click. Shiro paced forward, and wrapped his arms around Keith's waist.

“What do you need?” He pressed a kiss against the top of Keith's head. Fingers curled around Shiro's forearm, and a small grunt escaped Keith's lips. It'd been a good but painful session judging by his response. Without a word, Shiro rotated a very malleable Keith around and lifted him. Like a limpet, Keith's legs wrapped around his waist. Shiro made his way back into the living room, doing his best to step around Susumu as he chased after Shiro's feet. With a grunt, he set Keith down on the sofa. He pulled the blankets down and wrapped Keith up like a burrito, pushing the black strands of hair away. “Hippo?”

“Please. Is Kosmo asleep?”

“Yeah. He's been camped out in your room since I walked him earlier.” Shiro replied, rubbing small circles into Keith's temple. “You want a drink? Do you need me to message Krolia?”

“Water, and yeah. Just let mom know I'll call her later tonight. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith tilted his head up, and Shiro gave him the kiss he silently asked for.

Keith absently watched Susumu toddle after Shiro squeaking away. It took cats a while to learn how to meow, Shiro had told him the other day. The little fluff-ball was cute. Like Kosmo when he was a pup. Keith sighed as he settled down in the blankets. The session had drained his batteries, but sessions like these normally did. When Shiro returned with Hippo as a glass of water, Keith reached out for Shiro's wrist.

“Heads up, but tonight might be bad.” Keith's fingers slipped away, and then laced between Shiro's as he crouched down.

“It's fine, Keith. You've got Hippo, and me. We'll keep to the sleep schedule, okay? I'll help you with dream rehearsal if you want?” Keith squeezed Shiro's hand tighter. He hadn't allowed Shiro to read his book, but tonight he'd make an exception.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You just recharge and relax. If you need anything, shout at me. I'll take care of you. You want take-out tonight?” Keith chuckled to himself.

“Sure. The usual from the burger place.”

“Got it. We're a good team, huh?” Shiro kissed his forehead again, and Keith closed his eyes with a smile. Shiro was really good at looking out for him like this, and Keith couldn't be happier.

-

Keith enters the apartment. He drops the bags to the floor and stretches out his limbs.

“I'm back! They were all out of the udon noodles you wanted, but I found some other ones which might work?” A reply doesn't come, which is strange because Shiro was supposed to be home. Maybe he was asleep? Keith shrugs his shoulders and takes the groceries to the kitchen. He puts them away as always, momentarily pausing as he opens the fridge. There's some mouldy fruit in there he didn't remember seeing. With a grumble, Keith dumps it in the bin without much thought. He grabs a mug and sticks the kettle on, before wandering into the living room. It's empty; even Susumu isn't here. Actually, none of Susumu's things are here. Keith frowns. He walks the rest of the apartment, silent except for the kettle rumbling away. Keith pokes his head into his room, but Kosmo's not there. His heart skips a beat. His feet move faster, breath catching as he pushes open Shiro's door.

There's nothing.

No one.

Keith pivots on his heel and runs through the apartment. He kicks open all the doors, calling for them. Panic manifests as he wrenches the front door open, and sprints down the stairs. Keith's footsteps echo in his ears, as he gracefully lands the jump. Keith pushes his way through the complex doors into the outside world, and he sees nothing, no one. There's no noise; no distant sound of traffic, of planes, birds, people, or even the wind. Everything is still, like time's stopped. Dread seeps into Keith's bones, into his blood. He reaches for his blade, but fingers don't find the handle.

Keith runs. He finds himself running along empty sidewalks, cars nowhere in sight. He jumps down a flight of stairs and through the park that should be bustling with families, joggers, teenagers, and dog walkers. Nothing. Not even a fly hits him in the face. He doesn't know how long he's running for until he hits the outskirts of the city, desert sprawling out in front of him. Keith turns back, eyes widening in horror as the city cracks. White light rips through concrete and asphalt. The sky splinters into a thousand shards and collapses. Keith runs. He runs harder then he ever has before as the world behind him fractures into nothingness. His blood and ragged breath sound in his ears, the only noise and company, until with a scream,

Keith

falls.

Keith awakens in a world of brilliant light. He whirls around this way and that in this directionless place.

“Hello? Is anyone out there?” He calls. “Shiro? Kosmo? Allura? Pidge? Hunk? Lance? Coran? Mom? Can anybody hear me?” Keith staggers about in fear of this unknown place. There's a noise. A rumble somewhere all around him. Then he feels a pull. Air and light is sucked towards him, the roar rising to a thunderous crescendo in his ears as his hair whips upwards. Keith can barely keep his eyes open, barely able to breathe. It's suffocating. He's suffocating.

Alone.

Tears prickle. No. No, Keith doesn't _want_ to be alone. Not again. Not any more! He tries to squirm away but he can't. The wind tears and shreds at his body. His fingers claw towards the flickering light as the oxygen is almost depleted.

Until

it

finally

goes

out.

Shiro had been awoken by a sharp kick to the back of his thigh. It took him a few moments to realise, but when he did, he hovered over Keith's writhing form. Sweat beaded his brow, Keith's face contorted into something pained. It wasn't good to grab him; that could cause damage, so Shiro had to wait, painfully, until Keith's eyes snapped open. It was then that Shiro moved.

“Shh,” Shiro slowly raised his arms, “shhh, it's okay Keith. It's okay, you're in bed – our bed – it's me, Shiro. C'mon, that's it.” Keith fell, shaking, into his chest. Shiro carded his fingers through the sweat-soaked hair, while Keith's fingers clutched his back like a man clinging for his life. He rested his chin atop Keith's head, gently rocking from side to side to the sound of Keith's ragged breathing. “Do you need anything?”

“Stay. Like this.” Keith mumbled against his chest eventually. Shiro closed his eyes, massaging the back of Keith's scalp.

“It's all over. You're awake. I'm here. I'll never leave you.” Keith merely nodded against his skin. Keith sniffed, and wiggled a hand free to dry his eyes by the feel of it. Shiro's chest ached to know that whatever monsters lived in Keith's head made him like this. All he could do was hold, kiss, and tell Keith everything was okay. Just like Keith had done for him.

Keith felt safe wrapped in Shiro's arms. He was awake, it was over. He blindly reached out for Hippo and found his soft foot. Keith tugged him over and placed the toy in his lap. Breathe. He had to remember to breathe.

“That's it, Keith. Deep breath in.” He heard Shiro suck a breath in. They both held it. “Out.” Shiro's warm breath tickled his scalp. They continued, until Keith's breathing had evened. “Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro muttered as he planted a kiss against Keith's head again. He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

“It was new in a way. No one was there. I was alone and...reality broke. Like when we fought Honerva. I couldn't do anything and I just felt abandoned and alone.” Keith squeezed Hippo tightly. “You'd gone. Left. Without a word.” The rocking stilled for a moment, before Shiro restarted. “You won't...please.”

“I won't ever up and leave you.” Shiro spoke softly as he tilted Keith's head up. “I won't abandon you, Keith. I promise – _swear_.”

“Shiro.” Keith's voice was nothing but a whisper. The embrace loosened. Shiro caressed Keith's cheek with his thumb, swiping it just under the eye.

“I know you spent a long time on your own to keep yourself safe. I know in the past I went missing, but it's all over now. We've got each other, and can help each other through the bad times. We can celebrate all the good times too. But not just together; with the others. Do you want to visit New Altea some time?” Keith nodded as he leaned into Shiro's palm.

“It'd be nice to see Allura. Even Lance of all people.”

“I think Coran will make sure we all feel at home. I kinda hope he doesn't force weird food on us again.” Shiro's nose crinkled, and Keith found himself chuckling. Coran had a habit of forcing alien food on Shiro first.

“Thanks. I think I'm gonna grab a shower...I feel pretty gross.” Keith pressed his hand against the sheets, feeling the dampness left by his sweat.

“Do what you need to. I'll be here when you come back.”

“Can you come with me? Company right now.” Keith pushed himself off the bed, glancing back at him. Shiro quietly studied him before nodding.

“Of course. We'll talk about anything you want, or just enjoy silence. Up to you.” Shiro offered out his prosthetic, and Keith took it with a smile.

“I think the comfortable silence is what I want right now. Thanks, really.” Keith made a move to the door, but stopped when he realised Shiro was doing something with the bed. He turned to find Shiro placing Hippo under the duvet. “Seriously?”

“He means a lot to you. Besides, Hippo can keep the bed warm.” Shiro came to Keith's side, ruffling the back of his hair affectionately. “C'mon, let's get you showered.” By the hand, Keith lead Shiro to the bathroom with him.

Keith turned the valve with a soft sigh. Shiro didn't have to be here, didn't have to respond to Keith's neediness, but he did it with a smile and love in his eyes. It was still a strange feeling: to be and feel loved despite his issues, despite his fears and insecurities. Before Keith got in the shower, Shiro motioned him over. He pressed a kiss against Keith's forehead.

“I'll be here for you no matter what.” He felt his body relax, and without warning, brought Shiro into a tight embrace. “I love every part of you, Keith.”

“I love everything about you, too.” Keith kissed him slowly to the sound of water. He got lost within the rush, within Shiro's mouth. When the kiss broke, Keith caught the heavy-lidded eyes looking back at him.

“Go on, before I get other ideas.” Shiro squeezed Keith's ass, and with a tap, directed him to the shower. Keith pouted, but complied. This was the first time Keith had such a quick come-down, and as the water hit him, he wondered whether with Shiro here, it'd get easier as the months and years went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the time, and reading my fic! I'd love to know what you think, and comments are very welcome!
> 
> I really like these two being supportive, cause they really are to each other. I also REALLY like small squeaking kittens who can't meow properly. 
> 
> Thanks for your time! See you again!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading chapter one!
> 
> Dreams are set in present tense, for those that noticed. That will be a recurrent theme throughout the piece.
> 
> I think we all know what bit of canon we go through now...more angst next chapter!
> 
> See you soon!


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